Consider The Thistle

Port-au-Prince, Haiti:   This week marked the official launch of Thistle Farms’ blog, The Voices of Thistle Farms.  To kick it off in style, we also hosted a blog tour of the book, “Find Your Way Home,” written by the Women of Magdalene and Thistle Farms.  It’s been a huge success – as of today, there were 39 separate sites that posted review about the book and over 500 hits to our blog! I am personally proud of this project, not only for the attention that TF has received, but also because I could finally put my skills to good use (ie. organizing and blogging!) for an organization I believe so much in.

I wasn’t planning on blogging about the book myself since I’ve already written about it a few past posts (handy recap: week 1, week 2, week 3, week 4, week 5.).  However, I was curious to see if any of my thoughts of (or infatuation with) the book had changed since then.

I brought “Find Your Way Home” with me on my trip and was, once again, comforted by the travel-friendly size of the book, as I curled up with it in a chair underneath a clear Haitian sky.  What I think I love most about this book is that not every principle may not make complete sense when I first read it, but as I continue to sporadically pick it up, another one may literally speak out to exactly where I am in my life.

For instance, when I first picked up the book, #14 Consider The Thistle was a generally lovely thought, but it did not have the immediate personal connection with it as I did with #17 Remember You Have Been In The Ditch.   Yet, tonight, as I reflect back on the faces of Haiti that I have seen and experienced this week, the principle takes on a much more poignant meaning.

The thistle blooms in streets and alleys
where women walk and sleep.

We spend a lot of time considering the thistle –
its rough exterior, its soft and regal center,
and its capacity to break through concrete to blossom.

In a world that names them weeds,
We taste the riches of thistles and savor their beauty.

We are thistle farmers. 
The world is our farm, and we harvest where other people do not want to travel.

I read that last line again.  We harvest where other people do not want to travel.  It literally speaks to me and brings fruition to the fact that I have been thistle farming in Haiti.  I have sought out the beauty in the people of a country whom most pass off as some poor and hopeless waste of space.  I have witnessed women walking HOURS to carry clean water (on large buckets on their heads) to their families, under a hot sun and over a dusty road, yet they still hold themselves with dignity.  I have listened in disbelief at the amount of laughter from the children of the streets, as they somehow find a way to not let poverty and a questionable future stifle their fun.

This book allows me to name an emotion, to explain the meaning of a situation and to show me that I AM on the right path to wholeness. I look forward to discovering the next pearl of wisdom that surfaces as I read the book again in the future. I also am hopefully that “Find Your Way Home” becomes a tool for others to use to describe practical ways we can love one another without prejudice or judgement.