from "Reformed and Feminist"
"The Netherlands was liberated during May of 1945, when I was almost five years old. I have my own memories of this event. The general mood of those days especially remains with me. No words describe this episode better than wild jubilation. Of proverbial Dutch reticence and sedateness, no trace was visible. The Dutch flag and colors of the Royal House, until then from display, were abundantly in evidence; on flagpoles, on clothes, on houses, and in gardens, orange, red, white, and blue ted the landscape. People danced arm in arm in the streets, singing at the top of their lungs; we all went mad. The Allied forces that liberated us rode through the streets in their tanks, blocked in their progress by the crowds that surged around them. These healthy men looked like the very angels of heaven, and so we treated them. We were free! Others had accomplished this for us; the Dutch could not do it for themselves. These godlike foreigners had come to save us. So it seemed to the child, who knew nothing of strategies and world wars, who knew only that a cloud had lifted, never to come back again. People had acted on behalf of those who could not act for themselves. It happened; it happens. "-from "Reformed and Feminist: a challenge to the Church" by Johanna W. H. van Wijk-Bos
posted by the princess @ 2/25/2005 07:00:00 AM
2 Comments:
This quote makes me think about the war in Iraq right now, form which I will quote a book I read parts of last summer, "A Table in the Presence" by Lt. Carey H. Cash. The cover of the book says, "The Dramatic Account of How a U.S. Marine Battalion Experienced GOD'S PRESENCE in the midst of the Chaos of THE WAR IN IRAQ."
Are our American soldiers a parallel to the Allied Forces in WWII? Are they "People has acted on behalf of those who could not act for themselves. It happened; it happens." As she says, "Others had accomplished this for us; the Dutch could not do it for themselves."
I used to work at a high school two years ago, when I was 25, in Roger's Park, a neighborhood in Chicago which is very diverse, with many refugees, etc. I recruited some teenagers to help me move to my new apartment at the end of May. One was from Albania, one was from Iraq, and another--I sort of have forgotten--but I believe he was from Bosnia. It was very unique because these three teenagers were friends, despite their very diverse backgrounds, they found themselves in very similar situations in America. Teenagers in the American school system, they had learned how to speak English.
After these three young men (my sister and mom helped too)moved all of my things, we went to dinner. I asked this teenager about the war in Iraq, which had just started the March of that year. Now, I wish that I had written down what he said, because I sort of have forgotten some of the details, but it was super interesting to me.
Basically, he said he had mixed emotions about the war in Iraq. He still had an aunt who lived there, whom they tried to talk to each week. Because of the war in Iraq, she would not leave her home during the day (she said everyone stayed in their house and hid) she could only sneak out in the evening to get food.
They all wanted to see Hussain leave the Presidency in Iraq, because he was staving his own people--they did not have food or water. At the same time, the TV stations would show American soldiers ki ll ing Iraquis as they walked out of their houses, thus the mixed emotions of the war.
His own family had immigrated right before Desert Storm, the war in 1991. They came to the United States with only the shirts on their backs, literally. To escape, they drove from their home in Iraq to (I will omit the location for privacy purposes), burned their car, walked for days until they came to another country. He was six years old at the time. His sister was four, and they had to carry her for part of the way.
When they came to the United States, they had absolutely no belongings. His father worked three jobs; he drove a taxi and had two other jobs, he would sleep ih his car. His mother worked in a factory.
This teenager from Iraq that I knew was not the typically American teenager at all. He had an incredible work ethic. I have forgotten his name now, but if you are reading this (I can't help it, it's my "mother annointing" as was prophesied over me last night) please pray for this young man, that he would serve God, as he already had so much character already. He didn't look Middle Eastern to me, I thought he was white, or perhaps Hispanic. I was surprised when I learned he was from Iraq.
Sam! His name was Samuel, I remembered, please pray for Sam.
Post a Comment
<< Home