LOVE - then...
By Chereka
Love, probably the most powerful word in the English language, or any other for that matter. In Amharic, it is fikir, and still packs that powerful punch. It's a word with so many definitions, one can get lost in it more than just symbolically. Far be it from me to even suggest that I am an expert in the subject, but sometimes, one can't help but muse upon the word when faced with something provocative. It could be a song, a poem, a painting, anything at all, that wakes up every nerve in you. It shakes the very core of your feelings that you just can't help respond to it in some form or fashion. You may cry, smile, laugh, ponder, get mad, or just sit there - like a log.
Below is a glimpse into the lives of two men of somewhat the same era and similar backgrounds, ideals and ambitions. Two men with convictions so strong, that they were willing to sacrifice what was dearest to them. Two men who were worlds apart, but shared the same aspirations of seeing their country united and guarded from internal enemies.
Even beyond that, there was something else that these two men had in common - the great love they had for their wives. Love that was so powerful that the only other thing that transcended it was their love to their country. Below is the expression of the love these men had for their wives, each in his own way.
Sullivan Ballou was a Union Army soldier during The American Civil War who dedicated his brief adult life to public service in his home state of Rhode Island where he was elected as a clerk to the R.I. House of Representatives. As an extension to this public service, he joined the military in the spring of 1861 to fight and preserve the Union against the Southern separatists. In July of 1861, he wrote the following letter to his wife, while waiting for orders to head for battle.
July 14th, 1861
Washington D.C.
My dear Sarah.
The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days -- perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.
Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure -- and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine 0 God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing -- perfectly willing -- to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.
But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows -- when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children -- is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country?
I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death -- and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee.
I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of the principles have often advocated before the people and "the name of honor that I love more than I fear death" have called upon me, and I have obeyed.
Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.
The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me -- perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar -- that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.
Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have oftentimes been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.
But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night -- amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours -- always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.
Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.
As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father's love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God's blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.
One week later, Sullivan was killed at The Battle of Bull Run. In a twist of irony, the letter was never mailed, but was made public later. Sarah never re-married and died at the age of 80. She was buried next to her husband at Swan Point Cemetery in Providence, RI.
....
And then there was Kassa Hailu (Atse Theodros), The Lion of Quara, Gondar - a Northern province of Ethiopia. Like Sullivan, Kassa came from a humble background, but there was no humility when it came to the issue of uniting his country. Known in some circles as “The Black Napoleon” for his brutality, he was a fierce warrior, and a very skillful leader in the battlefield.
Atse Theodros was married to the love of his life Weyzero Tewabech, a great wife and an ardent supporter. After her death from a short and sudden illness, Atse Theodros composed the hymn below, as a tribute to his beloved departed wife. This was taken from the book "Aand Lenatu" by Abe Gubegna.
... and Now
By Mimi
It is Valentine’s Day! Time for the marketing divisions of Hallmark, 1-800-FLOWERS and Godiva chocolates to mandate Love.
It’s that sugary time of the year, when lovers across America celebrate the sentimentally contrived and overly commercialized holiday. Don’t get me wrong, I love romance and I am all for celebrating love, but Valentine's Day has become too ridiculously corporate.
I was in the mall a couple of weeks after New Year‘s Day, where I nearly drowned in the Red Sea- of foil heart balloons, and my eyes got assaulted by more pink than a flamingo convention. Dangling red hearts, fuzzy teddy bears, and that chubby, miniature angel-wearing nothing but a loincloth were everywhere. Even the cigar store and Brookstone, which sells overpriced shoehorns, were in full Valentine gear. My heart was pierced not by Cupid, but from the laughs at the comical tactics to sell merchandise. .
The sale associate announcing on the intercom, “Nothing says I Love you more than our attractive gift card” was the most amusing. I must have missed the show when gift cards got a make -over and reached the romantic level on the gift ladder.
How brilliant? Now you can prove love with an intensity that matches the exact monetary value of the gift card.
These savvy corporations have made everyone believe in this fairy day, that people feel obligated to spend money in order to express their affection. They have somehow convinced everyone that Love has a price tag and it is to be proven by purchasing a gift on Valentine’s Day. Hence, the stress to shower one’s darling with love - in the form of a fabulous romantic gift. A day that is supposed to be all about love ends up being be a day to stress over the exponentially hiked price of flowers, restaurants and hotel rooms. A day that is supposed to be about appreciating your lover ends up being about guilt, depression and resentment about purchasing gifts.
Love on this overly commercialized holiday seems so forced, almost black mail level kind at that. But true show of Love comes from the Heart, not the wallet.
May your Love be as beautiful, as intense, and heart felt as Kassas' & Ballou's.
