Hearts

It's getting intense around here. Not that volunteers don't have our moments. But the local folk who have joined us to help out have their own set of raw pain. 

One told me about some people in the shelters who weren't telling people where they got their relief goods and were hogging it all, and complained that it was discrimination and wanted to draw a line to prevent that here. We had a long talk about types of victims and people who have fallen through the cracks of the system. And why an attempt to close out the selfish would close out too many others. 

Another who got invited to go somewhere with a staff member and said no. "I can help here because it's closer to the school than home. I have to go pick up the kids when another big quake hits. What would happen if it came while I was elsewhere? I'm not that peaceful yet. Maybe later, but not now."

A nuclear worker who tried reassuring a local woman with the facts got yelled at to stop talking, and accused of not having a clue what she's feeling. 

The nuclear worker himself has guilt over somehow benefitting from this tragedy by getting such a generous salary. He's over-sensitive to thank-yous, and he's exhausted and edgy. 

One local lady looks troubled but will flash you a fake smile. I call her on it sometimes. She calls herself on it sometimes. Slowly she's starting to talk about the tough stuff. 

Another actively tries not to cry and spins everything to the positive. She suddenly rushed past me in tears the other day. I glanced over at a staff member and got the nod to check on her. We cried together for a while. 

Pray for the hearts shaken by the tragedy. It's not just the landscape that bears the scars.