Dear Friends:
Our
update is a little early this year. I will be going to Croatia in November
to welcome our fourth grandchild. It’s a girl – Laura and James’ third
daughter.
Volunteers
Our angels are dealing with their own health
problems but continue to give in the midst of their own difficulties. Bob
Striler, Carlos Bennett and John Jurisich wore out their welcome in the
hospital this year. They continue to amaze us.
There
are two areas that receive a significant amount of aid because of Orley
White. He gathers clothes, toys, furniture and household furnishings and
delivers them to Mable and James Armstrong in West Dallas. He also delivers
many things to a Hispanic church in Garland.
Parkland Patients
Palliative patients remain a priority in our
giving. Bob Striler visits and walks beside them through this dark time in
their lives. Every patient has different needs. We received a call in
March that Ruby, a leukemia patient, was here from Kenya visiting her son.
Her husband had returned but Ruby had waited thinking she would return a
short time later. By the time she was ready to go, her disease had
progressed so much that she was unable to fly alone. “Could we provide an
escort?” was the request. Airline Ambassadors referred us to a young woman
who agreed to escort Ruby. We paid for airline surcharges and hotel.
We
were contacted a short time after the trip and informed that Ruby had been
delayed in route but had finally arrived at her home in Kenya. She was able
to see her children but died a few days after her arrival. We were all
shocked and dismayed. Then we remembered – the mission we set out on with
Ruby was accomplished.
Croatia
James
and/or Laura Albright travel each month with others to take food to the
elderly in a part of Croatia that was heavily damaged during the war.
Because they are of the wrong ethnicity, help that might otherwise be
available by the government is not available to them. LIAI provides the
resources for much of this effort.
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Matthew
A woman from Dallas Crisis Intervention called us in June
regarding a gentleman who had been in the Bridge shelter for two years.
Matthew was born into a family of privilege, educated, and working in a
high-ranking government position when militants overthrew his government.
Of the 4 million people who were killed, many were brutally executed. He
survived only because he was in the US visiting at the time the hostility
began. Matthew was granted asylum but out of fear for his life even here he
began working and living under the radar – no contact with fellow
countrymen, etc.
In
2007, Matthew had a heart attack and a short time later lost both legs below
the knee due to diabetes. While he was in the hospital (in and out for an
extended period of time) he was evicted from his apartment and all his
belongings were destroyed.
We have been supporting Matthew while getting
his papers replaced. Prosthetics are in the works, he moves into his new
apartment later this week, and he’s planning to work again. This is a story
of a man who lost his life as he knew it and now has a new life because of
the kindness of strangers.
As I reflect on this man’s loss, I am
overwhelmed by sadness. He was never able to tell his family goodbye or
grieve the death of his friends and colleagues who were executed. He lost
everything as a young man. Thirty years later he lost his health and
ability to care for himself.
Here’s
the question: Who were you in the Matthew story? Were you the
complacent judge who gave the apartments permission to evict him or the
compassionate woman at Crisis Intervention who prayed before she called that
we would say ‘yes’ to helping Matthew. Were you the rigid apartment manager
who was not willing to take into consideration the terrible circumstances of
Matthew’s life in evicting him or were you one of the many people who are
now making it possible for Matthew to rebuild his life
In Conclusion
It’s
amazing how our awareness of what we’re doing here changes with the passing
of our years. Thirty years ago I knew the words but with very limited
understanding. Today I understand there are no words to adequately express
the wonderful, joyous, grace-filled life that is ours. We are separated
from it by our own blindness. Imagine the joy of seeing Matthew’s
tear-filled eyes with each new step into his new life. “I’m not alone
anymore,” he often tells us. “I love every one of you.”
Thank you for your support.
God bless,
Rae England
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