Helping the Animals

"We don't have two hearts, one for animals and one for humans ; we have one heart or we don't have any." (Alphonse de Lamartine)

Amy and I are still not accustomed to the sight of half starved creatures roaming roads. Often they are maimed from being struck by vehicles. Twice we found dead dogs on our property and buried them. Two dogs show up at our doorstep every day to be fed. I told Amy after the first one not to feed more. But another one was so pitiful with its bones poking out she fed it and now it is “our” dog. 

Mexican dogs have it rough compared to their northern counterparts.

Avion (foreground,) and Loki

I am Facebook friends with an American woman living in Oaxaca. She is doing marvelous work helping the animals here. Recently she developed a couple of Spanish language coloring booklets to teach children how to handle animals with respect and care. Since Amy and I are teaching in our pueblo, she sent and we printed out an 8 page pamphlet. Soon to be shared during our Sunday workshop at our home.

I have had some misgivings. What if the children go back home and the adults are insulted that we are advising their children. These are poor people who cannot afford cars, water heaters, and sometimes do not send children to school for lack of money. How are they to pay for vet care, neutering, good pet food, grooming etc.? It is like showing them inadequacies.

Yet Amy and I want to make the project fun, and we will show how to make a stitched booklet. The kids can make art for the covers. 

"Animal protection is education to humanity." (Albert Schweitzer)

"Animals often talk more reasonable with their eyes than humans with their mouths." (Ludovic Halévy)

One Teardrop

Last night as I was meditating before bed, something unusual happened.

I am in Denver, Colorado for an art show. My hotel is quite comfortable and a block away from the festival grounds. Sitting on a couch in a dark room, I had been quieting my mind but had been thinking of various situations present in my life. One in particular has occupied my thoughts—the extreme conditions of an Egyptian family I am friends with. (See: Inshallah)

Strangely, as I sat still and upright, a teardrop formed in my right eye. Slowly my eye brimmed and the drop flowed down my cheek. I wondered where it came from.

Retracing my thoughts, I realized I had remembered Amira, the oldest daughter of Hagag. I had worked hard to collect some money for her college, which is an impossible dream for any of the five children. Amira, eighteen, is a pure soul, shy yet intelligent and strong.

The family has many pressing needs. It has been decided to use any money to help her mother with urgent eye surgery. The first installment of funds has been delivered. The family will be relieved that Edleah will have her eyesight protected. But I know too that Amira sleeps on the hard earth at the feet of her brothers and sister every night.

The tear that fell down my face was her tear, the one she would never show her family.

Inshallah

“Inshallah.” This is what Amira said the last time I spoke with her and asked if she wanted to go to college. Her father, my friend Hagag, had handed her the telephone. I sensed that she deeply would like to go on with higher education, but is also aware of her family’s needs. They share a difficult life in Luxor, Egypt with deep bonds of love.

Inshallah means “God willing” or “if God wills it.” It is an Arabic language expression. When I am in Egypt I hear it used frequently, and also, alhamd lilah which means “thanks be to God.”

I have raised money for Amira to go to college. Perhaps it was simple minded of me to offer to help in this way without consulting in depth with Hagag. The family has so many pressing needs. The oldest son had to go into the army after graduation since no money existed for college. He is out now, after serving two years. There are four other children. Amira, the oldest daughter, is about to take college qualifying exams.

Iyah, the youngest daughter, Edleah and Amira

Hagag has a spinal disk problem and needs surgery. He is almost disabled and has trouble doing work on his tiny plot of land along the Nile River. Edleah, the mother, has eye problems. Add to this that the refrigerator is broken and they have no money to fix it or buy a new one. The entire family lives on about two dollars a day—yet if you were to arrive at their home they would welcome you to sit and serve you tea with the utmost kindness.

The last several times I have spoken with Hagag about money and college for Amira, he has sounded unhappy. “Edleah needs eye surgery. The doctor said it is very important.”

I have a new friend, Hazem, who is Egyptian and speaks fluent English. He has a daughter attending college in the USA. We have not met personally, but were introduced through someone I know in Santa Fe. I needed someone who speaks Arabic to talk more in depth with Hagag. Hazem has now personally met Hagag and the family. He reports that Hagag insists that the most pressing emergency is saving the mother’s eyesight.

Edleah and the youngest child, Bilal   (December 2017)

Look how much clearer Bilal's eyes are . . .

I have prayed about what to do. The surgery is a little more expensive than the year of college. But I also learned that college is not as expensive as thought. Public institutions are quite cheap. It is the room and board that adds up—but that can be alleviated by sharing.

At this point, it is me saying inshallah . . .

Abu Ez

“Don't forget me and my family!” 

My friend Abu Ez smiled at me with a hint of concern as I was leaving Luxor, Egypt. We had become friends after a chance meeting along the Nile River. (See my blog: What I Want And More). I had helped him by painting the name of his youngest daughter, Amira, on his sailboat. 

Abu Ez made his living sailing tourists on the placid water of the famous river. We had become pals, and I had been to his earthen home and come to know his family. The home had no electricity, or appliances. The floor was of earth, all four kids slept in one bed, and an ox was brought from the fields through the house to the stable each night.

I have often thought of Abu Ez and his family. Especially since the turmoil in Egypt and through the middle east. I think his circumstances have become worse.

I am going back to see him, in mid-September. I will bring him money he needs.

In exchange for a donation, my fine art prints are available. The money goes toward Abu Ez . . .

Click: Fundraising Page