It wasn’t until last week that I realised just what I was doing. Every week I take time out to volunteer at a family group; the majority of families are refugees and asylum seekers. It provides a safe space for families to bring their young ones, socialise, have a cup of coffee and just take a breath from their usual routine. It’s great. It’s such a fab way of building communities and making friends. There’s an abundance of toys for the children to play with, and a baby area filled with soft mats and blankets. There’s a craft corner for older children to get involved with play d’oh, colouring and other such activities, and there’s always a floor full of toy cars. It’s great, there really is something for everyone.
This group happens every week, every week is different and brings news and old faces. I get to make new friends, support people and cuddle babies.What’s not to love?
Last week however, I had a sort of ‘eureka’ moment, a moment of realisation about what I was actually doing, what I was involved with, with this particular group. It was coming towards to end of the session and we were tidying up; one mother thrust her child into my arms asking me to hold her newborn for ‘just one minute’ whilst she took a breath and popped to the bathroom. It was in this moment I realised the extensive degree of trust I had built with these incredible individuals and the responsibility that lay in my hands. They had trusted me with their child, their newborn child. For those brief moments this particular lady found some respite, she had a moment to herself and I was able to create that for her just by holding her child. What an opportunity, what a blessing.
It was in that moment, I realised what was happening. I realised what it was all about. I felt a tear or two escape the corner of my eye as I took a moment to step back and just watch everyone around me. Chaos. Beautiful chaos. People from all over the world, more nationalities than I could count on my own hands all speaking one language…. Love.
As I held the tiny baby, all dressed in pink knitwear, in the nook of my arm, I was filled with love and joy as I stood as part of a community. I realised just how much this little family meant to me, how protective I have become over the bonds we have built and the moments we share together. We may be dysfunctional, we may be chaotic, messy and walking difficult paths and it might not always be easy and it might not always be pretty but, we’re doing it together, and we’re doing it all through the eyes of love.
What a blessing.
The unhinged ramblings of a cogitating nonconformist. 