This poem was written after a week in the Holy Land of El Salvador with a delegation of 100 women to commemorate the 20th anniversary of the martyrdom of the four U.S. Churchwomen.
Seeds Born in Us
We stood
in cathedral and at gravesite
We walked
into the campo
where barren fields ache for seeds
and campesinos ache for work.
We stood
where blood had drenched deep
felt the ground murmur
our lives shake as well.
We walked
into an unrepeatable moment in history
where Spirit and great love lay thick
and all is moved by the Holy.
On that early December 2nd morn
Children placed their palms in our North American hands.
The passing of a torch
that whispered “thank you”
and a plea to carry the legacy forward.
The children, the children—those wanting eyes
We now know why you could not leave
Dear Maura, Ita, Dorothy and Jean.
And why we cannot be the same.
Twenty years brought us to this moment.
We came to put our fingers into the wound
But your people kissed ours
Women’s hands reached to guide us
Barefoot madonnas and wrinkled faces of hope.
Like the kernels of corn
scattered up the aisle in the offertory procession
May we be seeds
for a solidarity renewed
a world reawakened.
So that not one drop of martyrs’ blood be poured in vain
Be born in us, dear Maura, Ita, Dorothy and Jean
Be seeds
…born in us.
Reflections from many SHARE Foundation delegates woven together by Jean Stokan…on the plane returning home - December 9, 2000
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