This image was taken during the war in 1992 in Sarajevo in the partially destroyed National Library. The cello player is local musician Vedran Smailović, who often came to play for free at different funerals during the siege despite the fact that funerals were often targetted by Serb forces. (Mikhail Evstafiev)
In 1991 a terrible war broke out in Bosnia and Herzegovina. The stories of strife and the images that came to us in the nightly news and news magazines captured my imagination and tore at my heart.
Of the many troubling images, one stands out to me still. It was of a man, a musician, a cellist, who in his own outrage and grief, began playing his music in the streets and destruction of Sarajevo.
Please forgive me for even trying to speak of this time, because I do not understand the history of the troubles that led to the terrible war in Bosnia, Croatia, and Herzegovina in the 1990s. I tried to understand and the most I can really grasp is that there were boundary issues, and differences between the cultures that had previously lived together peacefully. The atrocities that followed were something I found horrific, and incomprehensible. Neighbors against neighbors in some instances. And unnecessary cruelty. It left a profound impression on me for many reasons. The same is true for other areas of the war torn world. I will never understand man's inhumanity to man. Greed and self interest do not seem enough to account for the hatred and meanness that wars bring about. However, the image below was something I could understand. I have lost loved ones. I understand grief and loss. Somehow the gesture of playing cello, doing the small thing that one can, to retain a sense of humanity, has left an indelible impression on me of the largeness of the human spirit.
The image below is not mine. It was published in Time Magazine around 1991. I ripped the picture from my copy of Time Magazine back then, and kept it to remind me to pray for those who are living surrounded by grief, and to remind me that there is value in doing whatever we can to elevate the human condition. I have made a significant effort to locate the original and to give credit to the photographer. My best guess is that it was taken by Roger M. Richards.
The corn was harvested in early December in 2009. This year it was soybeans in the same field. The soybeans were harvested in late October. We don't farm ourselves, but living here closer to the seasons makes me appreciate the effort that is spent on cultivating. We planted a very modest garden of our own this year. When the cucumbers emerged from the vine, it was like a small miracle had taken place. Food came from the earth!
It is funny to me that in only one or two generations we have nearly forgotten what it is to have a vegetable garden and to grow our own food. We are so dependent on others for our basics, that I almost forgot that I can plant and grow myself. It is a great thing to be able to depend on others, for it teaches us to group together. But it seems good to re-learn some basic skills and perhaps some new tricks to make the job easier. I'll be planting more vegetables next year and remembering my grandparents and their own common sense about the garden.
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I'm a wife, mother, grandmother, and retired nurse practitioner. I spent my nursing career with cancer patients. My work was gratifying often, and difficult and sad sometimes, too. Since retiring, I walk my dogs, and try to do the things that are needed. When I am able, I take classes in photography.
I'm average and extraordinary, just as you are. I've experienced profound failures, significant disappointments, had a few successes, and been the recipient of a lot of mercy. I try to keep perspective on what's important in life, and not get too upset about the rest.
My Catholic faith is important to me, and while I'm no theologian, it's my intention that my faith inform my outlook and values, and inspire personal virtue. I love that God desires to reveal himself to us. I love the small hints, the little bread crumbs, the multiple clues, and the pieces of the puzzle that dot the created world and point to the hand of the Creator. I love that He uses beauty, art, science, all his creatures and the invisible realm of our heart and emotions to communicate His goodness to us. And I love that the fullness of his love can be seen in the sacrifice of his son, Jesus, which makes me free.