“Letters Under the Tree” | 3
Today’s “letter under the tree” is by Francesco Semeraro. From a personal story to a merciful action involving so many
Dear World,
the story I want to tell you begins, at the same time, in the lives of four families who do not know each other and live in four different cities. Four stories united by a desire for parenthood, not from the belly, but from the heart. This is how adoptive families usually describe the happiness of an alternative pregnancy.
The four families come together to experience the joy of this birth in Burundi, a small country in the heart of Africa where poverty imposes itself shocking to your sight touching your heartstrings.
Along the roads traversed barefoot by so many parts of humanity, you remain almost shocked by the number of children who seem to be wandering in thin air as we dart past them in the off-road vehicles we have rented.
How do you cope with the coexistence of such extreme differences? I ask you, world, so that the question bounces back to me!
When that I met Chancelline – together with my wife Francesca – it was a succession of emotions that danced around the immense joy that enveloped us, erasing the anxiety of the years of waiting that had just ended.
That day, while I was still realizing my new condition as a father, Chancelline led me, hand in hand, to the rooms that had been her home until that day.
The visit was brief but intense because of the smallness of the space and the essentiality of the furnishings. We still did not speak the same language but we understood each other anyway, trying to modulate the heartbeats that in both of us accelerated to an ever-high frequency.
For the duration of the visit and stay at the orphanage a flock of children followed us. The entire childhood of that place sought close contact, to try to fulfill the desire for sonship. Even if I wanted to, I could not forget the eyes of a child yearning for a hug, a cuddle or a simple handshake. Unfortunately, I could not please her that day – I had been advised not to because rightly that was my daughter’s day.
A few months later I would re-meet that child in Italy where she had had the joy of a family. Shaking her hand I asked, “Do you remember me?” She did not answer me but nodded her head, smiling. I hugged her and gave her a caress.
Contact with those children had left me with a feeling that is hard to explain: conflicting were the joy of meeting my daughter and the regret of not being able to give all those children a hug. But I was not alone in this feeling. That afternoon in early May I found out that Francesca had also experienced that feeling, and later that evening at dinner the other new parents shared it as well.
The days of our stay in Burundi were filled with new experiences and emotions with our children, but also ferment for a larger project that took shape within months of our return to Italy.
From the stories of our four families, a “crazy dream” was born, a project that even we could not give the shape it has today.
In 2017, the intertwining of the lives of the four families gave birth to the 4inzu association, “4” because there are four of us and “inzu” because, in Kirundi, the language spoken in Burundi means both “home” and” family.” We wished to give a home to children who are waiting to be able to embrace a mom and a dad.
We envisioned a home that I designed and redesigned several times to best accommodate orphaned and struggling children. I have been to Burundi other times to observe the people and conceive new ideas, each time with a more ambitious dream. Every element was a focus on children; every right denied to those little ones was transformed into a dream to be made concrete: from food to education, from play to health, from smiles to fullness of life.
Our stories moved, our lives intertwined other lives, and our passion infected other hearts; several people collaborated to turn that crazy dream into the reality that is now “Nice Hope House,” the house on Zege Hill a couple of kilometers from Gitega that wants to give children a “nice hope.”
Dear world, I do not ask you for miracles that the gaze of children can accomplish, I do not ask you for impossible feats that men can accomplish if they only know how to love, I only ask you for a possible gesture.
You, brother or sister are world, you father or mother are world, you son or daughter are world, you far or near are world, children waiting for a mommy and daddy are world, a little hand clasping that of its daddy is world, the excited eyes of a child looking at its mommy are world.
However, the dull smile of a little puppy is also part of the world, two hearts separated by poverty is world, a stomach growling from the pangs of hunger is world, a foot wound that has caught infection is world, a child yearning for a hug or wandering alone in the street is world
So, world, let me be brother and sister to laugh together, let me be dad and mom to make hearts beat in unison, let me be son and daughter to ask for a hug, let me become able to heal a wound, give me time to shake hands, let me be a traveling companion for those walking alone.
Dear world, if you feel you are a fellow traveler, walk with us, don’t just think about money, you can donate time, you can donate hugs, you can donate yourself to the world.
(*** Francesco Semeraro, engineer, born in Apulia and adopted son of Burundi, heartfelt dad and founding member of 4inzu Odv)
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