Chernihiv Region Charity
“Aratta”

––– Home | About us | News | Clubs | Our partners | Gallery | Contacts –––

November 29, 2012
A Singing Heart

Eye to eye - Hand to hand - Heart to heart
By Brother Anthony

It is hard to believe but we are approaching the 20th anniversary of the beginning of our humanitarian aid endeavours. When I made my first trip to the Romanian orphanages, I could never have envisaged that 20 years later, I would still be fully involved with such work.

Right from the start, it was never going to be about me, but about the lives of the people I managed to touch. As each convoy of vehicles grew in size, so did my spiritual awareness. The more people I met, be they the recipients of the humanitarian aid, or the fantastic volunteers who had found the necessary transport and gathered in the aid required, the more my spirituality opened itself to new possibilities. The awareness of everything around me grew, be it the emotions of those travelling with me, or the sometimes challenging and heart breaking situations that presented themselves to us and therefore had to be dealt with.

The volunteers knew where they were going, but nothing I might say could prepare them for facing the reality of the appalling conditions endured by children in orphanages or refugees in the camps we visited. Many of these wonderful, kind people shed tears, as I did, but not tears of sadness rather tears of compassion.

I came to realise that my ‘work’ was not work at all, but a living prayer and active meditation. I quickly moved my consciousness from being the ‘Boss’ of my convoys, to being a father to those who travelled with me. My spirituality expanded to encompass these kindly volunteers and the more it expanded, the greater my personal realisation expanded with it. Basically, I became a better person for just being with these incredible people.

Arriving at one particular camp in the foothills of Macedonia, just over the border of Kosovo from where the Muslim refugees had fled, we were presented with 5,000 refugees living in tents, with only five portable toilets to accommodate them all. They were using leaves from the trees for toilet paper and, although nowhere nearly adequate, they were happy because, for the first time in months, they were safe.

I had previously gathered everyone together and set out the situation that would be presented to them, explaining that in no way could we help all 5,000 refugees. I asked them to enter the camp with the aim for each person to help one single family. If we additionally managed to help 4, 5, 6, 20 or 21 families, these would all be a bonus on top of the one family we went to help. In this way, we would be able to feel a personal accomplishment, rather than just being totally overwhelmed by the difficult and distressing conditions we encountered.

The vehicles drove in and, as I watched the volunteers unloading the basics of life such as food, toiletries, toilet rolls and sanitary towels, the smiles on the faces of the Muslim refugees were mirrored in the faces of my wonderful helpers. It was impossible to help 5,000 refugees, but they had made a difference to the lives of many of the families incarcerated behind the fencing of this camp. As we left to the waves of farewell from the refugees, the smiles on the faces of my volunteers said it all. They had made a difference, not only to the refugees, but also to their own hearts and lives and to my life as well. ‘Love’s expanded joy’ was written on their faces and radiated from their heart centres.

By the times I finished taking these convoys to the former Yugoslavia, the tally was 186 convoys, the largest being one of 105 vehicles. Not only were the lives of thousands of refugees enhanced, maybe only a little, but enhanced nevertheless, but the life of each volunteer was enhanced as well. Each one became a better person for the experience and, as always when we arrived back in the UK and said our goodbyes at Dover, my tears were those of someone who had been deeply touched by the commitment, strength, courage and kindness of ordinary people. I would drive home with a singing heart and ready to begin organising the next Convoy of Hope.

As I mentioned earlier, I thought it was never going to be about me, but about the lives of the people I managed to touch. In truth, it is my life that has been touched the most.

Bless you all.