Category Archives: Parenting

The Seed of a Dream is Planted

Thula Thula Game Reserve, South Africa

Thula Thula Game Reserve, South Africa

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Kim, Mary, Sam and Niko 2010

St. Julianna, Founder of the St. Camillus Center

St. Julianna, Founder of the St. Camillus Center

In 2004, I went to South Africa to study the AIDs pandemic with a delegation of 16 women from the United States.  We spent 2 of our 16 days in South Africa on a game reserve.  Upon returning my then 6 year old, Sam, who is an animal enthusiast, made me promise that I would not go back to Africa without him.  I made that promise and set my intention to go back to South Africa with Sam and Niko one day and to spend time on at a game reserve.

In 2009, a young woman, Mary, came to Tacoma from Lesotho Africa to work in L’Arche for a year.  We were her host family.  Mary walked into our home and took up permanent residence in our hearts.  She returned to Lesotho in the summer of 2010.  By the summer of 2011, Mary had married her longtime boyfriend, Paul and she had given birth to their son.  They named their son after her brother… Sammy.  Our family’s dream to visit her and to meet Paul and our grandson, Sammy became more than a dream.  It became a clear intention.

I served on the board of The Lesotho Connection for 3 years from 2006-2009.  Lesotho is a small mountainous country surrounded by South Africa. One out of four children, in Lesotho, is orphaned by AIDs.  A Holy Names, Besotho, nun named Sr. Julianna has devoted her life to caring for the orphaned children in Mohales Hoek, Lesotho.  One of the goals of the Lesotho Connection has been to raise the funds needed to build a home for the orphaned and vulnerable children in Sr. Julianna’s Care.  This dream was fulfilled and the children moved into their new home, the St. Camillus Center, in December of 2014.   I wanted to see this center, which had been just a seedling of a dream when I was on the board and I wanted to spend time with Sr. Julianna and these beautiful children.

This dream of returning to Southern Africa, which started in 2004, continued to grow in me as our love for Mary developed, the St. Camillus Center was built and Sam grew into a young man.   The dream expanded to include Sam’s best friend, Will, in this adventure.  Sam and Will have been friends since birth.  Their friendship has been nurtured by their deep loves of animals, music and community.

In the autumn of 2014, I felt a voice inside me say “The time is now!  You must begin to prepare and plan to go to Southern Africa this upcoming summer.” It would be the summer before Sam’s junior year of high school and Will’s senior year.  If we waited any longer, the opportunity for all of us to go together could be lost.  And so we began to plan.

 

 

 

Lesotho Bound

This summer, I will spend 3 weeks in Lesotho, Africa with my husband, Niko, my 16 year old son, Sam and his best friend, Will.  Our focus is 3 fold.  First, to see our daughter of the heart and to meet her husband and 4 year old son.  We were Mary’s host family for a year as she volunteered at L’Arche Tahoma Hope.  She walked into our home and immediately was a part of our family.  After Mary returned to Lesotho, she married her beloved, Paul and had a baby whom she named after her Tacoma brother, Sam.  We are so excited to see Mary again and to meet our extended family in Lesotho.   When I told Mary that we were coming to see her, she replied “I have prayed for this for so long.  I never knew when it would happen and now it is happening.”  Together we wept with joy.  Mary has enlisted Sam and Will to teach in her classroom for 2 days that we are with her.

Secondly, we will spend 8 to 10 days at the St. Camillus Center.  I was on the board of The Lesotho Connection(TLC), here in Tacoma for 3 years.  TLC has recently completed a long time goal of building a new home for the St. Camillus Center.  This home houses 20 children orphaned by AIDS. There are over 200,000 children orphaned by AIDS in Lesotho.  This is roughly  the population of Tacoma.  We will spend our time serving in whatever way we can be most helpful to the center.  Also, Sam and Will will use their talents in music to write a song with the children that we will record so that it can be used both by The Lesotho Connection and by the St. Camillus Center in their promotional materials.

Thirdly, we will spend 3 to 4 days at a game reserve in South Africa to take in the amazing animals of South Africa and to learn about conservation projects in place.  Sam and Will have been animal enthusiasts from the start.  Their love of animals has been  one of the things that has nourished their deep friendship for the past 16 years.

Sam and Will have committed to paying for their airfare, spending money and time at the game reserves and to help raise funds for playground equipment and a sign for The St. Camillus Center.  To fulfill this commitment they have created and are selling cards with their original artwork as well as selling my Umbutu tea.  If you would like to support their efforts, you can purchase their items at Sam and Will’s Etsy Shop  or you can check out their project updates on their fundraising page at Sam and Will’s You Caring Site

This is a trip of a lifetime, but it is more than that.  As parent’s it is an opportunity to offer these young men an opportunity  to have their image of themselves and their world expanded.  It is an opportunity to allow and encourage them to steadily and faithfully work towards a goal and to bring it to fruition.  It is an opportunity for them to share their gifts in a profound way and to have their gifts shaped in new and profound ways by the Lesotho people. This is a trip that will crack all of our hearts open, that will change us in ways we do not yet know, and that will imprint on our souls our place in the family of humanity.

Click the link below to watch this beautiful video about the St. Camillus Center:

About the Lesotho Connection

 

The Art of Snuggling

This morning my son
Crawled into my bed
Wanting to snuggle
Before we started our day.
“Put down your book, Mom,
so we can snuggle.”
“I can read and we can snuggle, too.”
I replied.
I finished the last few pages of my book.
I put it down and turned off the light
And I snuggled in.

He was right.
A true snuggle requires my full presence.
As I let go of all distractions
And relaxed into this precious moment,
I became aware of the
delicious warmth of the child
curled up next to me,
The smell of his hair,
The sound of his breath
The deep sense of peace,
comfort and joy
Of being snuggled
Together.

My Child

Precious Child,
My deepest dream
is that you will know
that my love for you
is deep
and steady
and strong.

Though there are many things
your can say or do that
would cause my heart to ache with sadness,
my blood to boil with anger,
or my soul to grieve deeply,

There is nothing, my dear one,
Nothing
you can say
or do
to stop me from
loving you.

You are my precious,
my beloved
my dear child.
My love surrounds you
always.

Daddy Love

One cold November evening, my husband, Niko, our 5 year old son, Sam and I went to a birthday party in the old school building next to our church. As the evening wound down, Niko started to help with clean up and I decided to take Sam home to bed. Sam and I left out the side door and got into our car.

As we backed out of our parking space and started to move forward, I noticed to our left, up against the Church building, a man sleeping on the sidewalk.

As we turned the corner, I asked, “Did you see that, Sam?”
“What?” He asked.
Did you see that homeless man sleeping on the ground next to the church?”
“Go back, Mom. Go Back! I have got to see that!”

I stopped the car and slowly backed up just to the point where Sam could see around the corner, but not so far that our car lights would disturb the sleeping man. I paused for a moment and then proceeded forward.

“Did you see him, Sam?” I inquired.
“Yep.” He responded. Sam was silent for a long moment and then blurted out, “Finally! Finally, I got to see someone sleeping on the streets. I’ve always wanted to see someone sleeping on the streets.”

I was speechless. I had hoped that seeing this person would illicit a compassionate response from Sam. I was hoping it would instill in him a sense of gratitude for all we have. I was appalled that his response seemed so voyeuristic. Before I could challenge him, however, grace came over me.

Of course this would be his reaction. His whole life he had heard his parents talk about the homeless. He had watched us collect blankets for those who were sleeping on the streets. He had brought canned goods to Church each Sunday for those who were poor and many, many times he had heard the story of how my dad had lived on the streets for 3 years when I was just about his age. How could his 5 year old brain even begin to conceive of what it meant to sleep on the streets? All he had ever known of bedtime was snuggling with mom, being tucked in by dad and falling to sleep to the sound of their voices singing or reading to him.

As we continued to drive, I suddenly remembered that I had a wool blanket in my yoga pack in the back of the car. We did a u-turn and headed back to the old school. In protective momma mode, I decided it was better to ask Niko to help us, then to approach this stranger with our little boy at my side. We found Niko inside, mopping the floor. Together we told him about the man sleeping next to the church and asked if he would please bring the man our blanket. Niko looked at both of us deeply and said, “I’d love to.”

He took the blanket from my arms and headed towards the door. Sam followed close behind him until I stopped him at the exit and said we would wait inside for daddy to return. He looked at me with such disappointment and confusion.

“Please, Mom, please let me watch,” he cried.
“No, Sam. We are staying in here. This man deserves to be treated with dignity and respect. He is sleeping. He deserves privacy.”
“Please, Mom. I promise to be quiet. Please can I watch Dad?

I hesitated feeling very conflicted inside. Finally, I said, “OK, Sam we will go outside and watch Daddy, but we will stay far away and we will be very, very quiet. If you make any sound or do anything to disturb this man, we will come right back in.” He agreed and we quietly walked outside and stood about 20 feet away as Niko approached the stranger.

What we witnessed was a moment of pure grace. The man was lying on his right side facing the church building. Niko walked up to him. He knelt down on one knee, gently put his hand on the man’s left shoulder and asked. “Would you like a blanket?” We heard only murmurings in response. Then we watched as Niko slowly, tenderly wrapped this man in the heavy wool blanket. He started at his shoulders tucking the blanket in under his chin and moving downward towards his feet. When he got to his feet, he wrapped the excess material around and under them creating a cushion between his feet and the cold concrete underneath. Then he put one hand on the man’s hip, and another on his shoulder and tenderly wished him a good night.

I watched in wonder. It was as if it were his beloved son, my husband was tucking in and not some stranger he had never seen before. Tears streamed down my face and a prayer whispered in my heart that this moment would forever be imprinted on Sam’s soul. I prayed that he would know that this, this is what it means to be a man in our world: To go out in to the darkness and to face the unknown bearing the gifts of light, compassion, warmth and protection. In his tenderness his daddy had never been so strong.


In December of 2004, my son, Sam made glycerin soap for family and friends for Christmas. Sam was 6 years old and he was able to do about 85% of the project by himself. This gave him an incredible sense of accomplishment. After he had made over 60 soaps, he turned to me one day and asked if he could make a soap for each of his classmates. I looked at him and said, “Sam, you have 22 classmates.” He simply replied, “I know.” I reluctantly agreed and we set to work making more soap.

I brought the soap to Sam’s school the Thursday afternoon before winter break. I put a soap in each child’s cubby and then set out to help his teacher with the kid’s folders. As I was working, a little girl noticed the soap in her cubby. She looked at me and asked, “What is this?” I told her it was a bar of soap that Sam had made for her. She looked at me with the most vulnerable expression and asked, “Sam made this for me?” “Yes, and he chose that animal in the soap just for you.” I watched her tenderly take her soap and show it to her classmates. To each person she said, “Look what Sam made for me.” Not in a boastful way, but with a sense of awe and wonder.

I teared up many times that afternoon as I witnessed Sam’s classmates respond to their soap. When we got home I said to Sam, “Sam, could you believe how much your classmates liked your soap?” “Yea, Mom, Donovan said Sam Rocks!” “Wasn’t that something, Sam?” “Mom, that was AWESOME!” It was the first time Sam really got what it means to give of yourself and to have it received. It was tremendously powerful.

Ten days later we learned that a tsunami had devastated Southeast Asia. We talked about what we, as a family, felt we could do and decided to send money right away. I researched relief agencies and sent our small pittance via the internet. After I sent it, I felt impotent. That’s all we were going to do? Millions of people’s lives had been devastated and we were going to send a little money? I sat with this for 2 days and on the third day I posed a question to Sam. “Sam what if we made soap and sold it to raise money for the tsunami clean up efforts?” “OK, Mom, that’d be good” ”Sam, how much money do you think we could raise?” He put his hand on his chin and thought. Then he looked at me out of the side of his eyes and using his pointer finger for emphasis said, “I bet we could raise $200.00.” “What about $1000.00. Do you think we could make $1000.00, Sam?” “Oh, Mom, That would be impossible!” “Maybe not, Sam. If we got your friends to help us, and got other kids involved we could easily make 350 bars. If we sold them for $3.00 a bar we would raise $1,050.00. He thought for a while and then he looked at me and said, “Mom, I’m not even going to guess.”

That afternoon we started the Tsunami Soap Project. Over 400 young people participated in the Tsunami Soap Project. These children came from 4 schools, 1 Cub Scout Group and 2 Neighborhoods. Through their collective efforts they made over 1800 bars of soap and raised over $6000.00 to help with Tsunami Relief. Each group that made and sold soap chose the relief agency where they sent their funds. Monies went to Mercy Corps, Catholic Relief Services, Unicef, Oxfam, and World Vision.

This project gave our children the opportunity to reach out and do something at a time when they, like us, felt so powerless. It taught them that  they can have an impact when they put their energies together. And it showed them that they really can make a difference.


Christmas Magic

When I was a child, as the days of autumn shortened and the nights lengthened we would settle into our home and begin to bake. Cranberry bread, nut loaf, banana bread, sugar cookies, fudge, green cornflake wreaths, and rice Krispies snow men would line the cupboards. It was a quiet, busy time of preparation all leading up to the most magical night of the year, Christmas Eve.

The ritual of Christmas Eve was always the same. It would begin with a feast: steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, sautéed mushrooms and onions, frozen corn, and rolls. When dinner ended, us little ones would hurry off to our baths. Once our hair was squeaky clean and our bodies scrubbed, we would wrap our bodies in a towel and rush to our bedrooms. There we would squeal with delight as we found new pajamas. Once again, the elves had snuck in our bedroom window as we bathed, and left new pajamas on our pillow. We would quickly put them on and run to model them in the dining room, where the adults sat enjoying Christmas cookies. After a cookie or two, we put out a plate of cookies and a glass of milk for Santa. Then we were marched upstairs to bed, where we were warned that if we did not fall asleep, then Santa could not come.

And so we waited for Christmas to come. We had gone to bed to a house that was filled with the delicious aromas of our feast, but otherwise looked the same. And when we finally fell asleep and Santa arrived, he not only brought presents, but he turned our home into the magic of Christmas. He would place a beautiful Christmas tree in the corner of the living room and decorate it with lights, ornaments and tinsel. He would hang streamers in the dining room and mistletoe in the doorways, and a twinkling elf in the window. Christmas had arrived!

One of the adults would then rush up the stairs yelling to us, “Hurry, Hurry! Santa is just leaving. If you are quick you might see him on the roof!” In our sleepy daze we would run to the window near the steps that looked out over the roof where our chimney stood and through the ice would try and try to search for a sign of Santa. We were always a little too slow and a little too late and every year we just missed him. There was no time for disappointment; however, because we knew that just down those stairs the magic of Christmas awaited us. As we ran down the stairs and burst through the door there it was. There it was! The tree, the lights, the music, and piles and piles of presents, Christmas had come.

Now as an adult, with a little boy of my own, we still use the dark time of year to prepare for the light of Christmas. We bake our favorite Christmas treats and wait for the light to return. We have decided that it is too much work for Santa to decorate our tree and house and deliver gifts not only to our house but to everyone else’s, too. So we help him out by decorating our home and tree on the Winter Solstice, Dec. 21st. On Christmas Eve, we take our showers and baths before, instead of after, dinner and those elves have managed to find me every year, no matter where I have traveled or lived. Each year they still delight me and now my husband and son as well, with warm and cuddly new pajamas. Our dinner is still a feast that includes steak and mushrooms and onions. New traditions have emerged and have been added to the old, creating our own unique family tradition. And the magic remains.

And so, during this Christmas season, I honor Santa’s beloved elf, Jane. With deep gratitude I give thanks for her light that still shines.

My dear mom, Jane,
died on Sept. 14, 2005.
Her spirit of magic and surprise lives on.
Merry Christmas.

“The light still shines in the darkness,
and the darkness has never put it out.”
-John 1:5

You’re God, Mommy

One lazy morning, as you and I snuggled in bed, I whispered to you, “Sam, do you ever see your angels or guides around you?” Startled by such a question, you quickly replied, “No!” “How about God, do you ever feel God’s presence deep inside you?” Your eyes softened and with such tenderness you looked at me and said, “When I’m with you, Mommy.” Then you snuggled in closer and hugging my arm you whispered, “You’re God, Mommy.”

Energy rushed through me and before thinking I blurted out, “Oh no, Sam. God loves you even more than I do.” Shaking your head back and forth you replied “That’s not possible, Mom.”

My heart almost burst with love for you. “Oh, Sam, you are right. I love you so, so much. How could God possibly love you any more than I do? It is not possible. But God’s love is more pure. Sometimes I get impatient with you or I get intolerant or frustrated. Sometimes, I growl at you and get cranky. Sometimes I get distracted and forget to take you in. I forget to listen and be present to you. God doesn’t, Sam. God is always present, always loving and always delighting in you just the way you are. “

I could barely breathe as we finished our conversation. I lay their holding you in my arms overwhelmed by the deep realization that as your parent, I am your first experience of the divine. How I parent you will forever color how you relate to God. My deep prayer became that I would introduce you to a God who is loving, warm, compassionate, forgiving, fun, creative, spontaneous and loving. I wanted you to know a God who would allow you to make you own choices and to enjoy or suffer through their natural consequences. I wanted you to know that God lives deep inside you and that you would discover God’s voice in the deepest yearnings of your heart. In the deep quiet voice within you, there you will find God.

You are your child’s first experience of the divine. In their young world you are all powerful. How you parent your children will forever color their experience of God.
-KARE
July, 2004