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September 2001
Dear Friends,
When I first came to Guatemala seven years ago almost no one
had heard of cell telephones. Now I am among the many people here
with her own cell phone. That is how I received the news of the
terrorist attacks on New York City and Washington D.C. on Tuesday,
September 11, via a telephone call from another mission co-worker
in Guatemala. I was in El Estor, Izabál, a small town on
a very large lake in the northeast part of the country. I was
with a group of eight Guatemalan women from three different ethnic
groups, who had come together for two days to get to know one
another, share life experiences, and encourage one another as
women, hermanas, sisters in Christ.
These women, too, have known violence and death. Almost all the
women told of experiences during Guatemala’s 36-year civil
war when some lived for months in the mountains to escape the
guns of the army and others lived in fear that a knock at the
door would mean death for all in the family.
When I received the phone call it was my turn to share something
of my life. Instead, I told the group of the terrorist attacks,
and this became a part of my life story. Later in the day we all
watched in disbelief and horror the often-repeated television
pictures of the airplanes colliding with buildings, people jumping
from the burning tower, the towers collapsing, as in a science
fiction movie.
The next day we all climbed into the back of a pickup truck and
rode some l0 miles from El Estor. We drove a short distance from
the road through a corn field until we came upon a lovely spot
by a river. On the banks of the river were palm-covered picnic
shelters. In smaller groups we rode in a boat a little way down
the river and found a spectacular sight—huge boulders, old
gnarled trees with Spanish moss hanging from them, the gently
flowing river, and a clear blue sky. I thought of all the history
this river has seen! The boat left us in a shallow part of the
river where there was a kind of rocky beach. There some of the
women dove into the shallow cool water to swim. Others in their
heavy "tipico" skirts, waded into the water. One woman
went fishing. The two children who had come with their mothers,
delighted by their first experience of a river, picked up pebbles,
splashed themselves and everyone else with water and fearlessly
ventured into the river holding tightly to the outstretched hand
of an adult. And I, fully dressed, finally could not resist the
inviting cool waters and went for a short swim.
Later, sitting on the rocks to dry myself, I looked around at
the peaceful scene before me: Women and children played together.
The clear river nestled between what seemed like a huge cave,
the sides made of rocks and trees and moss, with a slice of blue
sky on top. Birds sang from the trees. Tiny fish darted among
the rocks in the river. This is the way God intended for people
to live, I thought, in harmony one with another and with creation.
What a tremendous contrast with the violence, destruction, and
death we had seen on the television screen and with the civil
war and present-day violence we all know in Guatemala. And now
this senseless, mindless violence seems to be engulfing the world.
I could not help but ask myself, what have we done to God’s
good world, the world God created for us to enjoy and care for?
I wondered, what will be the future for these women and children?
For all of us? Later, I would remember and reflect on words of
assurance and comfort from Scripture, "God is your refuge
and strength, a very present help in trouble." Later I would
pray that the United States would seek justice, not revenge. But
in this moment I could only sit in the beauty and peace of that
place and grieve for God’s people and creation everywhere.
Ellen Dozier
The 2001 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 241
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