Three Amigos in DMZ

Last week when I wrote in my on going pictorial essay Risen In Venezuela about a young man who was blind and, thanks to Cuban doctors, now can see, I never thought a minor miracle in my own sight was in the works. Yesterday when I was working in the DMZ garden I noticed that I did not have my glasses, which I need for reading. I thought I just lost them at home, which frequently happens. When I returned home and did not find my glasses I returned to the DMZ and looked again. I could not find them there or back at home. Working in the garden today at our schedule time 3–5 pm I was joined by three of the youth that helped us, two brothers who live in the house next to the garden and one youth who lives in the house behind the garden across the alley. I nicknamed them the “three amigos” because they are good friends and work well together. Their actual nicknames are Baybay, Dee and Dayday. As we were sifting soil and building raised beds today I mentioned to them that I had lost my glasses yesterday. The four of us kept changing roles, one sifting, two filling the wheelbarrow full of compost and one raking the raised beds. Near the end of our time there I was out raking the mounds when one of the youth shouted out to me and came racing to me with joy in his voice and my glasses in his hands. The glasses were dirty but not broken. I was overjoyed and so grateful to the three of them. Now I can read and write again clearly.

One of the boys told me today how much he enjoyed working on the garden. Although we have not done much of the glamour work yet, seeding, planting and harvesting, it has been a joy. When it came time for me to leave today and go home to make dinner, there was a little sadness. But there is always tomorrow which will be better that now I can see.

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