Memories of our trip are not hard to come by; they put me in a trance from time to time though being more than half a year removed from the experience – happy memories, sad memories, frustrating memories, etc., etc., memories truly of countless emotions. One of the memories I like to draw upon the most is the feeling of hope, one that I should add was expressed subtly but with strength by Rwandans, in the face and aftermath of the most inhumane acts. One of these memories is based on a piece of paper that rested appropriately in a room dedicated to children at Murambi’s memorial site. The following was on the paper:
Sleep My Child by Paul Benjamin
These April showers bring memories we cannot sing
Hiding among the dead, in this sacred place
And here upon this soil, hate took my song
Peace faded, trust betrayed – leaving me alone
Sleep my child and dream of days to come when
Pain is concurred in love’s sweet embrace
Why do these lands cry out, stained with out blood and tears
All of the hopeful years blossom into grief
Hurt more than words can say, dignity stripped away
Take my everything, leaving me to mourn
Sleep my child and dream of days to come when
Pain is concurred in love’s sweet embrace
Someday I’ll wake to see, change drifting over me
When truth has told her tale, and her voice is heard
These rains crash over me, soars though they still may be
Forgiveness takes a step leaving me with hope