JUST LOOK THROUGH THE WINDOW

This Pioneer family in Bosnia was considering itself as a lucky one: the husband had found a job in a goal town and a house in this same town near a school, and with a garden for both children who were still rather young. Said like it sounds an average Mr and Mrs Anybody’s life planning. 

But you must know that Travnik is a town 100km from Sarajevo thanks to a narrow road which brings people into a deep narrow valley with dark pine trees on the slops where no one can go because of the land mines remaining from the war time, an agitated river in the bottom, broken factories on the edges, a few streets were the asphalt is just a memory but where the domestic garbage is present wherever you might walk. 

It is suffocating in summer, very cold and snowy in 8 month long winter and foggy in between. As in a children book illustration, the house these dear Friends had rented was lovely looking since it was the only one without bullet holes and had fresh paint. It had no shutters but luckily there were Venetian blinds in the bedrooms. The problem was the fact that it was in the middle of various 3-storey apartment buildings in a greyish cement colour; with as many scars as an old army veteran, which they were after all. Each window from this cement jungle was overlooking every corner of the house. Behind the windows of these apartments there were families peering curiously and very quickly through the windows of this dear pioneer Family’s home.  Of particular interest to these eyes were the kitchen and the sitting room. 

After several weeks in this surrounding, life became quite boring for Rebecca, the mother, who was staying home taking care of little girl number 3. No place to go, a furnished rented house, a sloppy garden whose flowers had been robbed from the first week she had beautified it, no ‘passing-by’ friends, …People can call you Doctor Rebecca in Bangladesh but, what do you do in a Muslim country were you want to serve humanity? 

The young boy of the family, Benjamin aged 6, had joined the local Primary school. He had quickly learned the Bosnian language so, no problem. And he was very keen to be a good student in order to create his image as good and respectable boy. The neighbouring kids started to come to play with him. Selling buildings in Paris in Monopoly were rather difficult things to do calmly for these kids who had so little to eat daily and hardly a room for themselves. The violence was their answers to any tried formal games. The first thing Rebecca began to teach them was how to respect each other and NOT BEAT each other up at any move! It took sometimes but it worked!! They began to speak of these things at home and, through the windows; Rebecca began to see her neighbour ladies faces looking frankly at the windows, with a smile sometimes then a hello too. 

One lady, more courageous than others, came to fetch her child and thanked her for the piece of cake he had eaten. She was pleased to see Rebecca inviting her for coffee and talking to her in a language she could understand. This lady of course talked to the other neighbours and Rebecca started to be invited for coffee into their houses. They first of all congratulated Rebecca for having a husband who would not go to the bars and they were amazed that they could see the family gathering together in the kitchen for meals and in the sitting room to pray in the evening. The absence of curtains had been a teaching tool!! 

Many of these dear ladies were rather depressed, due to the ravages of war that left them practically with out anything; poorly dressed, with great difficulties, as they could not afford any repairs, and very far from any principle of education except slapping whenever the children were misbehaving. One of these children was considered, both at home and at school, as a hopeless case who would have to be sent to a kind of prison for difficult children the next year since the teachers did not want to care for him anymore and he was badly bullied by the other pupils. Benjamin used to say that he was a kind guy with him. Rebecca found out that he was dyslexic so he was completely lost within this violent atmosphere. She started patiently to speak to his mother, advising her to assist him with his homework, helping him quietly to read and count, and at least just take interest in him. His father even accompanied him to school one day! Some time later, Benjamin came home  from school with a large smile saying that Dino had a 3 in reading. The marks were from 0 to 5 and Dino used to be familiar with 0. Then time passed, Rebecca encouraged Dino and the mother and he finally ended the school year with the permission from the teachers to go on with studies at school instead of going to the repression centre.  This was a real victory! 

In the meantime, Rebecca had more and more relationships with the ladies around, accepting sometimes to be invaded by visitors at times she would have liked to be quiet. Once one of these ladies expressed that she had been married at a very young age and she could not finish her studies though she wanted to learn administration. Since, as many Bosnian family she had a computer, Rebecca taught her to use it so the neighbours and finally this lady decided to go on with studies through computer. She was even able to  manage to go to another town once a week to frequent ad hoc classes. 

Others were artistically knitting kilometres of crochet, making useless coloured things they were pilling in cupboards. Rebecca offered to help them to sell these works of art.  They could not believe it!! No shop in town was interested!  But, Rebecca went to eBay on the Internet and advertised it. The first sale, white curtains, went to Seattle and the money came and was given to the artist. The US lady even answered how pleased she was. You can imagine the joy, and more importantly, the pride suddenly coming up in these still sad surroundings. Rebecca had hard time to refrain for the amount of cakes and coffee cups in the neighbourhood! 

Finally, the principles of the Faith she had kindly passed on in the discussions with these dear ladies and the prayers she had said for them were coming to fruition for the benefit of these few ladies who were forgotten in the bottom of a severe valley of Bosnia. 

How many hours sometimes to look at gloomy walls, how many times to wonder how can I be of some use as a Baha’í when so many important events are taking place in the world and how many prayers are necessary to make bloom the bud of God’s love you are ready to share? There is no action too small!! May be, we could all just look through the window!

Francoise Teclemariam