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.