As I drove away from the Centennial Auditorium on Saturday afternoon, anticipating my daughters' imminent return home; I noticed a woman on a bicycle several car lengths ahead of me. Slung across her body was a collection of 1970s floral sheets, some cast-off hankies, and a few other pieces of yesterday's garbage.
I'd sat through nearly three performances of "Sanctuary: Hope For Darfur" by the students of Neelin High school in Brandon, Manitoba, tears pouring down my face as I listened to a chillingly beautiful rendition of Karl Jenkin's musical score Adiemus. The true tales of horror that I'd read about in Tears of the Desert; A Long Way Gone; Left to Tell; and Half The Sky came alive again as students danced, sang, spoke, and painted before their audience.
With no simple answers.
We're responsible for what we know. And although it is entirely impossible to change the world in some starry-eyed idealistic, simplistic way, one cannot argue with the words of Mother Teresa:
"We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean.
But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop"
To the staff and students of Neelin High school. You have been courageous and truthful in giving voices to the voiceless. Being a small part of bringing awareness to this very current crisis has renewed my hope, and my dogmatic determination not to rest.
One dollar for each of the 400,000 silenced human beings would never ever be enough.
One dollar per 4.9 displaced persons would never do.
And doing nothing is simply not an option.
I can't tell you just how much it thrills me to know that there are so many young souls in Brandon who are passionate about the people of Darfur. And that they cared enough to tell the story of Darfur themselves. Grateful thrills.
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