Hope

I just read a story about something I had heard mentioned awhile ago, right after hurricane Katrina. A volunteer brought art supplies to the children at the shelter in Housten, Labor Day weekend. This was right after they started arriving from the Superdome. Art therapy wasn't mentioned at the time. This was just a volunteer who realized that the kids needed something to do.

Kids' art reveals horror and hope after Katrina

"...The pictures were produced as part of the Katrina's Kids Project, which began on Labor Day when volunteer and mom Johna DiMuzio brought art supplies to give the children at the shelter something to do.

"The children started coming up and showing me these pictures of these images of the hurricane, of people drowning, things that bought tears to your eyes," DiMuzio said.

After seeing some of the art, she realized it could also help the kids express their emotions. She enlisted a few friends and returned the next day.
...

One 12-year-old boy used a vivid pencil drawing of flooded homes in his New Orleans neighborhood -- the devastated Ninth Ward -- to finally tell Bryan that his mother had been swept away by the rushing waters and he was in Houston all alone. He has since been reunited with his aunt."

Some of the images were chosen for traveling exhibit, to raise money for the victims. But the real power of these drawings is that the children were able to begin the process of healing, to confront what happened to them, and to tell others what they saw.

One woman's generosity, from a mom who just wanted to give them something to do, was able to give the children more than she had ever expected.

P.S. I know a lot of you may be wondering why I am taking such an interest in New Orleans, and Katrina. There are two reasons.

I have been to New Orleans, and loved it more than any other city I have ever been. It has been at the top of my "Must Visit" list for more than 15 years. Even back when I visited, I was shocked by the contrast between the tourist parts, and the poverty that we saw. But here's the thing: there was a beauty even in the poorest spots that you won't find anywhere else in the world. Ever again, because it's gone.

And the people! They were wonderful, friendly, and open. The kids that we met when we visited a high school were just great, and they made us feel at home. I came from a very small town that has its share of problem, but all of us in our group were stunned by what we saw (okay, yes, we went to Bourbon Street at night, so that would have done it, too). There is a certain something that wrapped us up and made us feel good. That's what kept New Orleans burning in the back of my mind all of these years. That's why I was glued to the coverage of the hurricane.

The second reason has to do with what happened to my town when I was a kid. We had an F4 tornado rip through town, June 28, 1979. I watched it, with my grandparents, my mom, and my little sister, after my grandpa drove us away from town so we wouldn't have to hear it, or risk being in the house if it came down. For years, I was terrified of bad weather, yet I was drawn to it. Even the shapes of clouds on a mildly stormy day could send me running to the basement. These kids suffered a lot more, and are deserving of our attention and care.