Waiting for Easter mass in the Milwaukee Co. park to start, I was on zoom enjoying the buzz. I’ve been flying in and out of St. Benedict the Moor’s inclusive, justice-focused faith hive since I was in the convent in 1974. So 60 miles away I was grateful to still be included in the Honey production. 

While waiting, a child’s head popped up and down on the zoom screen. Responding to her I said, “Well, aren’t you cuter than a Jack in the box!?”. She threw her head back and laughed off screen, thinking she’d never heard anything that crazy. This little member of the brood had no idea of my meaning. Since tech is the game in town, it seems that Jack In The Box has gone extinct.

A toy the shape of a cell in a hive! The idea of a hiding face that comes wildly up bringing laughter seems a good childlike metaphor for our resurrection connectedness. The repeated “Ha-ha thought I was gone? Fooled you! Here I am!” brings repeated delight. Suddenly a decades old memory of our daughter came back.

In 1986 I went to Nicaragua to bring Rosa home to be our daughter. Rosa had been in the orphanage waiting to go home for two years. Rosa’s Mother had made the ultimate sacrifice and placed her daughter there because Rosa was near death from malnutrition. Thirty-five years ago, I was working on completing the needed paperwork so Rosa could be taken from her homeland.

Fortunately the Assistant to the Minister of Health, Miriam Lozo, let me stay in her home for three weeks to help facilitate my legal tasks. In between visits to the doctor, the embassy, and the government offices, Miriam’s hospitality was also helping introduce Rosa to her “new Mom.”  A more relaxed setting was more bonding than if I’d immediately flown Rosa back to the United States.  

The most exciting unveiling of Mom and Daughter was in the morning. Rosa crawled out of her little cot and climbed on top of me, sleeping on a single mattress near her. While I looked at those beautiful saucer brown eyes and smile less mouth, Rosa looked and felt in my ears and inside my nostrils. Who is this woman? Is she worth trust?

The days were full of other wonderful falling in love discoveries. The hibiscus flowers behind two ears at the Nicaragua National Zoo and lining up seashells on the Atlantic beach come especially to mind! But then there was the day at the museum. Rosa held our hands as she walked between Miriam and me in a courtyard. I left the two of them and went to look more closely at some flowers.  

Walking to join the other two I waved, and Rosa waved back. Operating out of my own experience I thought “hide and seek” would be fun for Rosa. So, I hid behind a fountain and popped out. And then it happened. She rolled up like a ball screaming. I got to her and waited. And waited. She finally slowed her sobbing,  but as we walked she refused to take my hand. 

For the first time I began to realized how deeply I would be challenged to be her Mother. Waiting. And waiting will always be a huge part of my role. I will always come somewhat short in imagining her world of loss. 

Even now with covid having necessitated Rosa’s separation from her work and its supportive community, she has reverted to a skill she honed during the two years she spent absorbing abandonment in the orphanage. She’s created an imaginary world. I pray that my witness of always “being there” for her will be the bridge to the resurrection Rosa needs. 

Thank you for praying that Rosa come out of her protective cocoon-tomb and Passes over into new life. I promise you. I will pray for you, and all of us who in our individual ways suffer from the trauma of alienation which challenges our sense of belonging. May we truly live in one loving hive. Collaborating with the Queen is why we were created.

Peace,

Dona Palmer   04/02/21