Afternoon Showers-  Explaining Natural Disasters to a Nine Year Old

A cold Pilsen and a game of futbol. Pura Vida. ...then one of the boys, the youngest looked up distracted by the television screen. “Mommy,” he said, “What is that?” A quiet hush ensued as Tico and Gringo alike stared transfixed while images from Haiti flickered by. For once, I appreciated the fact that my children could not make out the reports of Haiti’s crisis which were streaming through in Spanish. Yet, the images spoke volumes and I knew I would eventually need to give an accounting for them. But first my mind tried to wrap itself around the magnitude of the earthquake and why my soul itself had not been shaken by its occurrence. Already 24 hours had past.

When the Twin Towers fell on 9/11 my then one year old son left us in solitude as we questioned “Why?” Since then Tsunami, landslide, genocide, war, hurricane have left me wondering what planet did I live on before kids? In my world, the wall came tumbling down. In my world, you rode out a hurricane on a surf board. In my world, a natural disaster involved too little sunscreen and too much peroxide. Whether the birth of by children changed my reality or reality had in truth been changed for all- matters not. I placed the Pilsen down and prepared to dole out what I hope would later be reflected upon as words as wisdom to my boys, soon to be men, who would shortly navigate these waters solo.

To my THREE year old The world for you, my man, exists as a magical place full of fairies, rescue heros, talking cars and Santas. How can I tell you that there are no monsters under your bed only to try to explain that maybe sometimes there are? Somehow simply showing you where Haiti is on the map and that it shares an island with the Dominican Republic is almost enough. I can’t help but also share how lucky we are. To have enough to eat. Have electricity and running water. Help and doctors when we need it. In some parts of the world, like Haiti, they are not as lucky as we are and need help. Sometimes even extra help. Right now the people of Haiti need extra help.

For my FIVE year old, much of the same.   Of course, he has more questions. That’s natural. Like if is Santa is real or not? Good question- but how to reply to a five year old? Wrong or right, I’m just not ready to lay all the cards on the table right now. While he listens in, I answer his many questions mostly revolving on what are earthquakes? Why and where do they occur? I am honest in the replies. We don’t have access to television and I’m not sure if additional exposure would build in fear. Right now he is curious and I see the seeds of empathy budding. Again, we talk of our blessings and how important it is to share our blessing with others. Especially those in need. And Haiti has been and is now even more so, in need.

But the eldest, NINE years, is at another developmental plane. I find that I am the one with the questions. How do I continue to build upon the seeds of empathy in this American child in order that he truly CARES about the people of Haiti right now? Especially when CoCo is calling him for another round of futbol? I can tell he is viewing the images differently than his brothers and seems to be seeking something deeper. I know this will stay with him maybe for a lifetime. He looks at me without saying a word.

And then I remember last summer’s thunder storm. Low Country style. They haven’t changed since my own childhood. They are quick, furious, relentless- pounding. A glimpse into Mother Nature’s ever changing beauty, and power. Not sure exactly what will come out, I begin:


“Remember when we went to the beach and it was bright and sunny and we were all running around? And then that storm came up. That black cloud. So fast and almost out of no where. Remember all the people underneath the boardwalk while the rain came down?”

Of course he did.

“Even under the boardwalk, we couldn’t get away from the driving rain. It hit us and it stung. And we had to run. But there was no cover. I held Roman beneath my body. And Daddy held Valin. And you said- ‘Mommy, what is going to happen to us?!’ and I told you ‘Everything is going to be O.K.‘

And it was.

We found shelter and we waited until the rain slowed down and then we left. Remember?”

Yes, of course he did.

Then I told him, “Right now there are moms holding their children beneath a pile of rumble. And their babies are asking their moms, ‘Is everything going to be O.K.?’ For some, it’s not.”

“But, Mom,” Phoenix said, “I saw people dancing.” and I explained that for a lucky few, their lives would be spared. But many more would not. And what could we do?

Me- I offer up a prayer for all the mothers beneath the rumble holding on to their children telling, or not telling them, that everything will be O.K. I tremble at the thought of being placed in a similar situation... and I know ‘but for the Grace of God go I.”