"Is There a Light For Me?"

Over the past several days I have been dipping into my new copy of Shevchenko's "Kobzar" (which means, "The Bard" in Ukrainian). I attempted to work out the meaning of several of his little poems. The first few lines of this one, entitled "Сестрі" with a date of July 20, 1859, appealed to me:

Минаючи убогі села

Понаддніпрянські невеселі,

Я думав: «Де ж я прихилюсь?

І де подінуся на світі?»

(In my edition of "Kobzar," this appears at page 642) My rough attempt at translation (with vast textual liberties taken) is as follows:

Passing Dnipro's towns and streets,

Of leafless trees and pavements gray,

I thought: "Is there a light for me

Above some porch along the way?"

This seems to capture the deepest longing of the human heart--to belong somewhere, to have a refuge from the night, to see welcoming faces peering through the evening windows, yellow with light. This sentiment has come to mind again and again over the past few days, as I have seen men on crutches asleep in the portals of the Metro, old women sitting hunched on street corners with little paper cups, begging for a few small coins, or long lines of plain-looking men and women selling home-grown beets, potatoes, cabbages, nuts or home preserves on busy sidewalks. It touches your heart to see those who are lost, alone, frightened or struggling to survive in this cold and wintry world.

.

In some small way, my efforts of the past few weeks have been to light a lamp above some little front porch by the wayside--to assist in kindling the light of freedom and liberty among a people who for too long have been subjected to fear and darkness. May the porchlights of this great nation burn ever bright.

I Receive an Angel's Reward

Near the main entrance to Lavra's Grand Church there was a little old woman sitting, huddled in modest clothing holding a small paper cup, begging. It was an interesting contrast to see her rags juxtaposed against those beautiful golden doors of the restored Dormition Cathedral. I have no doubt that there are beggars in Kyiv whose activities are questionable, as there are in every society. But I have always been of the opinion that one should never "allow the beggar to raise his petition to you in vain," and so I dropped a small bill into her cup. I then quoted to her one of a handful of Russian scriptures that I have memorized: "да благословит тебя Господь и сохранит тебя!" ("The Lord bless thee and keep thee!"--Numbers 6:24). She burst into tears, and, sobbing, reached for my left gloved hand and kissed it.

Mine was an angel's portion then.

Street Minstrels

Brazen hawking and peddling isn't the only game on the street. I have seen a goodly number of street musicians, including singers, at least three different accordianists, and today a trio of minstrels with guitars. There are also a fair number of beggars, including a rather heart-tugging elderly woman at Pechersk Lavra, of whom I may write more later. Though I almost always give to the beggars, I sometimes wonder how well the money will be spent. One feels good, however, about dropping a few coins or small bills with the street musicians.