Archives for the ‘First Lady’s Corner’ Category1st Lady’s Blog – My Sister Is Lost
Wednesday, May 2nd, 2012
I grew up in the Washington Heights area of Manhattan. We lived on the fifth floor of an apartment building that had no elevators and my grandmother lived on the second floor of the same building. This was the first home my brothers and I lived in when we arrived in the United States (my mother and sister were already living there).
Despite having so many happy memories, I can remember one particular day that wasn’t so fond. When I was about seven years old, my mother and grandmother took my sister and me to that very same park. I remember we played on the swings, monkey bars and teeter totter that day. While playing in the sandbox we met a little girl who happened to be at the park by herself. My mother and grandmother were sitting on a bench not too far with their back turned from us. After a while, the little girl got up from the sandbox and told us she was going home. My sister announced she was going with her. As her big sister, I told her not to, but didn’t try to stop her. Instead, I continued to play in the sandbox. After some time, my mother came to retrieve my sister and me from the sandbox. She noticed my sister was missing and asked me where she was. I told her that she left with the little girl, but my mother did not believe me. We searched the entire park and could not find her. We had to call the police and give them a picture of her. We rounded up the rest of the family and began looking all around the neighborhood for her. My mother was frantic, and I felt it was my fault. My sister was lost and I did not do enough to help her. Hours passed… but thankfully, we finally received a call from the police! A young man had found my sister roaming the streets, lost and alone, and took her to the nearest police station. We all breathed a sigh of relief. An officer drove my mom to the station to find my sister eating an ice cream cone. I only had one sister growing up, but today I have many friends that I consider my sisters. But just like the empty feeling that I had the day my sister was lost, there is nothing as heart wrenching as when I realize one of my sisters is lost and the world has gotten its grips on her. I feel helpless – just as I did when my sister was lost as a child. Christ is the only one who can find us and keep us safe. He has placed us in our “sisters’” lives to direct them down the right path, just as the young man directed my sister to safety that day. If your sister is lost today, why not direct to Christ? 1st Lady’s Blog – Precious Life
Sunday, April 1st, 2012
In 1995, when the Alexandria Police Department granted me an award for heroism, I did not feel very much like a hero. In fact, I felt miserable because I believed I had ruined someone’s life – not saved it! Two local newspapers also hailed me as a hero, but it just added to my misery. None of the accolades were able to pull me from the fear, depression and desperation I felt that fateful day. Though the events happened in a few hours, they felt like days and left an indelible impression in my mind. ***
Not soon after I arrived, a young lady stepped into the office, very distraught, and asked if the owner was in. Because he also worked for the NAACP, my supervisor often advised on community and civic concerns. When I told her that he would arrive later, I noticed that she was weeping. I was troubled by her sadness, but I did not know what to do. I suggested that she write him a note and assured her that I would give it to him immediately upon his arrival. The lady sat and wrote a full page letter, wiping the tears from her eyes as she wrote. I kept thinking to myself, what can I say that would make her feel better? When she finished the letter she folded it and handed it to me. As she began to walk out the door, I said to her, “He usually comes in at 10:00 am. Why don’t you call him on the phone before you return?” She just nodded and walked away. Back at my desk, I continued with my work. In the back of my mind, however, the stranger’s distress kept gnawing at me. What should I do? I kept repeating in my mind. The letter, I’ll read the letter – I may be able to help! As my eyes quickly scanned her letter, a feeling of horror gripped me. I could not believe what I was reading. …I am going to the Post Office where I work to kill my supervisor and then kill myself. I am so tired of the verbal abuse and sexual advances he made towards me and I don’t know what else to do… I thought to myself, what an awful time to be alone! I did not know what to do! I couldn’t even think clearly. I called a friend and she told me to call the police immediately. They rushed over (there must have been about ten of them), questioned me repeatedly, dusted for fingerprints and collected the letter as evidence. They used rubber gloves and placed the letter in a plastic bag. I felt like I was in the middle of a television crime drama. The police also sent units to all the post offices in the area trying to locate the woman. By the time I’d finished answering all of their questions, only two officers remained. Just as they were about to leave, the phone rang. It was her! I motioned to the officer and he mouthed to me, “keep her talking.” They were going to trace the call, but I soon discovered, it was not a quick process. I had to keep her on the phone. On the other side of the line I heard the voice of someone very subdued and tired of living. She said she was in a room and was getting ready to commit suicide. She was a perfect stranger to me, yet I had to keep her on the line. I told she had a lot to live for and asked her if she had children. “Yes, I do,” she said in her deadened voice. “But they don’t really need me.” I talked endlessly about nothing. The blue sky and the shining sun – anything that would just keep her talking. The hostage negotiator was writing down questions for me to ask her. What was her first and last name? What was her address and her phone number? Where she was right now? I tried to subtly slip them into the conversation. “My name is Ella,” she told me, but that was the only personal piece of information she shared. Minutes, which felt like hours, passed. One of the tensest moments came when she said, in a low voice, “I have to use the bathroom.” “Just place the receiver down and return when you finish,” I said to her. “Don’t hang up. Promise me you’ll come back!” I waited what seemed eons. I was so relieved when she finally returned, but I knew we weren’t out of the woods yet. More time passed until finally, the negotiator told me they had traced the call and were waiting outside the apartment to apprehend her as she walked out. I just had to convince her to return to my office so that she would come out. “We got her!” the negotiator said to me with relief once they had her in custody. He then congratulated me and left. I was left alone again. *** Alone with my feelings, I began to fall apart. I held my composure while I spoke to the lady, but now, feelings of guilt, fear and shame attacked all at once. I cried hysterically. I called my husband to pick me up and take me home. I stayed in the house for over a week. I did not want to speak to anyone. I betrayed the lady. She is going to hate me forever for betraying her, I cried to myself. I had difficulty eating and sleeping. I had to give a written statement to the Post Office inspectors, and though they assured that she would not be punished, I did not believe them. I’ve ruined this poor woman’s life! The Alexandria Police Department invited me to a small ceremony in my honor a couple of weeks after the incident. They awarded me with a certificate of appreciation and commended me for my heroism. The local newspapers took pictures and got a story from me. Their words comforted me some, but I was still racked with guilt. *** Sitting at my desk two months later, I happened to look out of the window and was instantly filled with shock, horror and surprise. It was the lady! Fear gripped me. I wanted to run. She’s coming back to kill me for betraying her trust, I thought, frozen to my seat as she walked through the door. To my great surprise, the woman looked right at me and said, “I just had to come back and thank you.” Her words were filled with so much sincerity, I knew they were true. “You saved my life.” I began to cry, except this time they were tears of joy and relief. I apologized for betraying her, but she assured me it wasn’t betrayal at all. I had saved her from doing something desperate. I hugged her and she said that because of me, she was able to get the help she needed. She was doing well and was working again, having gone through some medical treatment. I look back now on that event and think about how that incident made an impact on my life. I also think of how devastating it could have turned out. I’m so glad God gave me the opportunity to witness to her. Every life is precious, especially to God.
1st Lady’s Blog – A Child’s Thought
Thursday, March 1st, 2012
Swimming is something I always loved to do as a child. All of my siblings swam including my mother. Growing up near a river meant we could swim as often as we wished. Once I moved to the United States, however, we no longer had access to a river. Instead, we began visiting the various beaches in New York and New Jersey during the summertime.
We arrived at the beach and I was ready to explore the big beautiful ocean. As I entered and began to tread the water carefully, I found that it was very salty – quite to my surprise! In my childlike way, I tried to figure out why the water would be so salty. You see, the river I grew up near in the Dominican Republic was fresh. That river was used not just for swimming, but for bathing, cooking and washing clothes as well. Yet as I carefully lowered my little tongue to lap at the ocean, I could easily detect the salty flavor. “What made this water become so salty?” my young mind wondered. At one point during our stay at the beach I ran my hand in the sand underwater and I came across a small packet of salt. “Oh that’s how they did it” I thought to myself with a sigh of relief. The mystery was solved – I now understood why the ocean was so salty! It is a wonderful process to watch a child develop. Children are innocent in their approach to life as they try to make sense of the complex world around them. When you are a child you understand things in a simple manner. The Apostle Paul wrote, “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child” (I Cor. 13:11a). As I got older I understood that the ocean could not possibly be salted with little packages of salt. Similarly, as a new babe in Christ, I discovered that I had a childish understanding of God. I could not fathom how He could love me so much that He would allow Jesus to die for my sins. I felt I had done so much wrong and had a difficult time forgiving myself. “How could Jesus forgive me?” I would ask myself. When I was younger I thought that when my mother got mad at me she no longer loved me. As I got older I realized that she never stopped loving me even when she was not pleased with something I did. As I have grown in Christ, I have come to understand that God does not stop loving me either. No matter what I’ve done. It was just a child’s thought. 1st Lady’s Blog – The Last Generation of Kick the Can
Wednesday, February 1st, 2012
I love the old television show Twilight Zone and one of my favorite episodes is entitled “Kick the Can.” I love this episode because it is so nostalgic of my youth. I have always said that if I wrote a book I would call it The Last Generation of Kick the Can. My generation seems to be the last one which actually played games like dodge ball, tag, jacks, hop scotch and kick the can. Kids today are preoccupied with technology; they love video and computer games. The only video game I remember growing up with was Atari, a very primitive version of today’s games.
Like many parents of my generation, I spent much money buying my daughters everything “I didn’t have” while I was growing up, not realizing that I was doing them a disservice. By giving them all of those extra “things,” I destroyed a part of their creativity. When I was growing up kids made up their own fun. Our parents were not able to afford expensive toys so we made up simple games. But, it was different with my daughters. When I would ask them to go out to play, they would say, “what will we play?” I would ask them to make up a game and they could not think of any. Some basic things we learned as children have not been handed down to our own kids. The children of Israel found themselves in a similar embarrassing situation. Somewhere along the way they forgot to pass on their beliefs and traditions to their children. The Bible records that “there rose up a generation that did not know God” (Judges 2:10). When they looked at their younger generation they realized that they did not possess the same values of their forefathers. The best thing we can do for our children and grandchildren is to teach them our values and traditions. These lasting pieces will die with us if we do not take the time to teach them now. It is my endeavor to do as much as I can to reverse this. So next time your child or grandchild says, “let play the Wii!” take them outside and teach them how to play kick the can. 1st Lady’s Blog – Another Year
Monday, January 2nd, 2012
I remember when I was a young girl and could not wait to turn 18 years old. Then I would be all grown up and have no one to tell me what to do. Unfortunately, I forgot to tell time to slow down once I reached that age. Another year is upon me and it’s time to set goals once again. This year instead of posting every two weeks, I have decided to post once a month to relieve pressure of myself. I don’t consider myself to be a gifted writer, but I like to force myself to do it since English was my major. I will also attempt to publish stories that are more personal to me and include some of the life lessons I’ve obtained while living through them.
Instead of exchanging gifts on December 25, we exchanged them on January 6. This is when we celebrated Los Reyes Magos orThree King’s Day. It was a great event for us children. My brothers and I would place grass and a glass of water under our beds. We were told that the Wise-men would replace those items with toys. The grass was for their camels and the water for their thirsty throats after such a long journey. And to our thrill, when we woke up in the morning we found toys in their place. When I arrived in the United States, I was told that toys no longer came from the Wise-men but were actually delivered by a man called Santa Claus. What’s more, no longer were the gifts placed under my bed, but I could find them under the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. We still celebrated our Noche Buena but instead of roasting a whole pig we just did the leg called pernil. The children were sent to bed about 10:00 p.m. while the adults continued the celebration. At midnight my mother would wake us up and we would run to the tree to seek out our toys. With my own family now, our traditions have changed dramatically. While we have continued the tradition of making a pernil and occasionally pasteles which we eat on Christmas Day, instead of on its eve, no longer do I bring in Christmas drinking and partying. I am blessed to say that my entire immediate family has accepted Jesus as their Savior – so we begin Christmas Day with prayer and devotions. Before any gift is unwrapped, we sit around the tree, give thanks and take turns recounting the many things God has blessed us with throughout the year. This is the tradition I would like to pass on to my grandchildren. While I intend on having them experience pernil and pasteles, most of all I want them to experience a relationship with the person for whom all the fanfare should be about: our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I am looking forward to another year! 1st Lady’s Blog – Blessed Among Women
Monday, December 19th, 2011
Kissing the face of God was a privilege afforded to one young woman. Can you imagine waking up every morning to see the face of God staring back at you? At the same time, what an awesome responsibility was placed on the shoulders of this same young woman. As mothers caring for young children, we are often concerned with their safety. How much more concerned must Mary have been, knowing that her baby was not an ordinary baby, but the son of God? She must have had many sleepless nights, worried that He might fall and hurt himself. As He grew older and she had to watch others be the center of His attention, she must have longed for the days when she was able to hold Him. Watching Him lose His life at His prime had to be heart-wrenching for her. When Mary was approached with this task she readily accepted. Rather than think of all the things that could go wrong, she considered herself blessed among women to have been chosen. Because of her acceptance, she has been immortalized to this day. Many songs have been written about her and young girls are named after her. There are paintings and statutes made in her honor. How blessed are we today among women to be counted in the number of those who are considered the sisters of Christ. Thanks to His great sacrifice, we are also God’s children whom He cares for and concerns Himself with. We as women are given the awesome task of caring for our families. We raise and nurture our children, and sometimes grandchildren, siblings, nieces and nephews, just as Mary had to do for Jesus. We will never know who that child we nurture today will help one day in the future. Although we may never have a statue erected in our honor, we have the benefit of knowing that we played a part in nurturing someone. We too will share in the opportunity of one day staring up at the face of God for eternity. We are blessed among women. 1st Lady’s Blog – Venga Uno
Monday, December 5th, 2011
The River Haina was our life source we did just about everything in it. We washed clothes, fished, swam, and even gave our farm animals water to drink. Once in this same river I almost drowned and Papá saved my life. It was midday and one of our housekeeper’s little boy, my brother and I, and Papá were swimming and playing in the river. As young children not paying attention, we played our way into deeper water and suddenly got caught in a current and began to drown. Papá did not see us because he was facing the other way. We tried to call out to him, but kept sinking further. Thankfully, my brother was able to swim out of the current and yelled to Papá that we were drowning. Papá turned around and rushed to where we were. He scooped us out of the water and carried us home to safety. Papá loved my brothers and me so much! I know his heart was broken the day we left to go live in America. He was such a great man! Another great Man entered my life several years ago. I found myself drowning again, but this time it was not in water but in sin. He came into my life and scooped me out of my dire circumstances. I did not know Him, but He was there waiting for me, calling out to me, venga uno. I am so glad I walked toward Christ and allowed Him to cleanse me from head to toe like my Papá used to lather and wash me. Christ has now become my new Papá. Always there to love, comfort, provide and care for me. As we draw closer to the Christmas season, why not allow Christ to be the Great Man in your life. He is there beckoning to you, venga uno.
1st Lady’s Blog – Give Thanks
Monday, November 21st, 2011
Having so much at our disposal makes it almost impossible to stop and remember God’s blessings. This may be why the scriptures talk about us making a “sacrifice of thanksgiving.” It requires effort. We must make the time to do it. Take a few minutes out of your busy day to tell the Lord thank you, And you will see how much better your day will go because, for those few moments, you forget about yourself and your problems and placed your focus on God. Nothing should get in the way of us expressing our appreciation to the One who made it possible for us to enjoy the benefits of our forefathers’ labors. Knowing all the suffering they experienced should make us proud to be in a country where we can worship God freely. So I admonish you, stop and take a minute to focus and give thanks on the creator and sustainer of all things. Giving is sometimes called a blessed thing. Even though is not scriptural, the saying “it is more blessed to give than to receive” is a good principle to live by. Who has given more to us than God? He gave the ultimate sacrifice for us. It was the best gift this world could have ever received. There is nothing like the joy of having someone open a gift you give them; you took the time to get know what they like and selected it for them. Seeing the expression on their face is sometimes thanks enough. This Thanksgiving, I encourage you to make the sacrifice and give thanks to God for the sacrifice He made for us! 1st Lady’s Blog – Eat, Pray, Love
Monday, November 7th, 2011
I recently watched a movie starring Julia Roberts called Eat, Pray, Love (yes call me cheap. I waited until the movie came on cable). The movie is about a woman that walks away from everything, including a marital relationship that is going nowhere, and travels to three exotic places. The first place the woman travels to is Italy. Here she learns to truly eat, not just consume, food; taking pleasure by slowing down and enjoying the meal. In Italy they believe that eating should be a slow and pleasurable experience. I personally learned this when I traveled to Italy some years back. I was sitting at a restaurant and the courses of food were brought to me with huge gaps of time in between. I learned that unlike Americans, Italians don’t eat on the run. Instead, they take their time. Life is very short and we must take time out to enjoy it. Jesus says, I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly (John 10:10). He wants us to enjoy life here on Earth and true living comes through Him. Next, Julia’s character travels to India where she learns to pray and meditate. The Bible tells us to pray always and without ceasing. In addition, it admonishes us, But his delight is in the law of the LORD; and in his law doth he meditate day and night (Psalm 1:2). In this fast paced world, we don’t seem to have the time to meditate and often hurry from one verse to the next. Taking the time to ponder on God’s Word requires some effort on our part. When we take the time to pray to the true and living God and meditate on His Word, His peace washes over us. The final leg of the women’s journey takes her to Bali. In this exotic place she learns to love again. The Father wants us to love Him and desires a personal relationship with us. He went through great lengths to prove His love towards us by giving up His only son to die for our sins. He performed the greatest demonstration of love and wants us to experience it. We don’t have to travel to exotic places to learn to eat, pray and love; God has made it available to us in every location and stage of our lives. 1st Lady’s Blog – The Void
Monday, October 17th, 2011
When we read the book of Ecclesiastes we find that King Solomon keeps searching for something to fill a void in his life. He turns to many vices such as women, drinking, and obtaining and accumulating things. Just like Solomon, we often seek after things to try to fill the void that we have within us. We try to fill it with lots of things like food, clothes and nice things. Sometimes we feel that having money will help us reach the point of fulfillment. Unfortunately, just like Solomon, we eventually discover that these things leave us feeling empty. We may ask ourselves, why do we have this void and what is the purpose of the void? At the end of Ecclesiastes we see Solomon come to the conclusion that only God can satisfy that void that is within us. God placed that void in us that we may seek Him and be fulfilled. When we strive for other things and forget God, Solomon says it is like striving after the wind. It is futile to strive after the wind because it can’t be captured or contained – just like contentment without God can’t be obtained. So the next time you feel an emptiness inside and begin to reach for those potato chips, a big bowl of ice cream or decide to go on a shopping spree, stop and ask yourself, “what place is God occupying in my life?” |
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I have fond memories of this place. I saw my first snow while living there. Part of the reason I still speak Spanish is because of this community – most of my neighbors were Dominicans. Our grocer was Dominican and so were many of the other business and stores we frequented. We attended a church that had mass in Spanish and the school I attended taught us in both English and Spanish. There was even a park my mother used to take us to when we were children that had the neighborhood pool.
It was a cold and wintry morning when I arrived to work and started my daily routine as a secretary at an accounting firm. It was a typical day and I was alone that morning; the other secretary did not come in that day, one of my supervisors was out of the office on business, and the owner did not usually come in until about 10:00 am – though on this particular day he was further detained.
I remember the first time I went to the beach. I was so excited I could hardly sleep the night before. I carefully laid out my bathing suit and towel across the bed and my sister and I spent the night talking about how much fun we were going to have at the beach the following day. When my mother woke us up, I immediately jumped into my clothes and was ready to go.
I never really got much into the arcades when they started popping up around my old neighborhood. I was content to continue playing jacks. When my own daughters were younger, I had an embarrassing moment. I have always kept my childhood jacks in a small box in my dresser drawer. One summer day I decided to take them out and play with them on the porch; I used to be pretty good at jacks. Two of my daughters happened to come outside and see me playing with the jacks and remarked, “hey mom, what is that?” I felt so embarrassed. I could not believe that my daughters had not heard of jacks before. I felt that I had let them down by not passing on this small tradition and teaching them this simple game I played so often as a child.
As I sit back at home and look at the empty tree which was laden with gifts not to long ago, I think back to Christmas time when I was a little girl in the Dominican Republic. I don’t remember my family having a tree, and unlike the American tradition, we did not have a big meal or exchange gifts on Christmas Day. We usually enjoyed the traditional meal of moro de guandules, pigeon peas and rice, pastels, an entire roasted pig, and other traditional Spanish dishes on Christmas Eve, which we called La Noche Buena. The day began with much fanfare. The pig needed to be selected; I always hated the sound it made when it was being slaughtered. Most of the day was spent preparing the meal. That night our family would gather outside to eat and drink throughout the night.
Whenever I hear this phrase it reminds me of a great man who played a major role in my life for six years; it was my great-grandfather Pedro. He would use this phrase every night when he bathed my brothers and me in the River Haina in my home country, the Dominican Republic. Papá, as I called him, would walk us down the path that led to the river. He would sit on a flat stone and call us one by one, venga uno, a Spanish phrase which means, come one. Since I was the youngest, my brothers would always push me to go first so that they could continue playing. Papá would lather me from head to toe with the homemade lye soap. I would then go back into the water and submerge myself to rinse away all of the lather. After we were all finished he would walk us back up the path to the house and tuck us into bed. Papá did a great deal of the caring for my brothers and me since my great-grandmother was partially incapacitated; she would help as much as she could. I lovingly remember her waiting for us to come back from the river each night and having a warm cloth to rub on my itchy back because the soap and water was so harsh on my skin.
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In these three places she learns some valuable lessons about taking time to enjoy life. While I don’t agree with the religious views and values of the movie, I believe we can still adopt this life lesson.
We may even ask ourselves how such a wise man could not feel fulfilled. Solomon found emptiness in everything he sought after. He had everything, yet nothing satisfied him. |
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