Hand in hand we walk down the hill, past trees dancing in the breeze, to a large pile of dried peas. Huddled around, dozens of hands skillfully remove the tiny treasures.
As if seeing the excitement in my eyes, he looks up with his beautiful mischievous smile and motions for me to join. Eagerly I drop to my knees and become part of the circle. A chair is brought out as they inform me to sit down. Next a bowl of unshelled peas is placed on my lap as half a dozen kids surround to help.
He remains close, sitting just behind me within arm’s reach, patiently sharing me with the others. Vaunel is his name.
As I delight in the chore before me I watch him from the corner of my eye. He darts to grab any stray pea that misses its intended destination. Admittedly I miss a few times on purpose.
He takes a handful of hulls, devouring the remaining peas, the ones deemed inedible and my heart breaks a little more.
Daniel slips away at some point without letting me know. The girls fill and refill my bowl, smiling brightly with each new round. We shell peas until darkness falls and every hull’s contents are inspected. The girls clean me off, washing the dirt from my now blackened hands. Inviting me to dance, we join together to celebrate our completed work.
Inside some odd mix of joy and sorrow stirs. Retreating home, words fail as my prayers turn to tears. Tears for their pain and suffering. Tears for the joy they have in its midst.
“Happy is he who has the God of Jacob for his help,
Whose hope is in the Lord his God.
Who executes justice for the oppressed,
Who gives food to the hungry.
The Lord gives freedom to the prisoners.
The Lord watches over the strangers;
He relieves the fatherless and widow” Psalm 146: 5, 7, 9a
