Everybody Changes

everybody changes

As we continue the countdown to our 100th Heartprint house build, we reflect back to our earlier-built houses and the families who have made them their homes.  We stay in regular touch with almost all of our families, and many, if not most, of them are part of our larger Heartprint learning community. 

Their lives have been profoundly changed by our community - but so have ours.

Have a cup of tea and let us tell you what we mean. 

*Trigger warning: mentions of suicide

In early 2021, when Covid was at its worst in Cambodia, there was a young family living in a hopelessly inadequate lean-to on some land quite close to a home we had built.   You have to understand these lean-tos are basically scraps of tin, cardboard, and old rags held together with string and a prayer.  In the rainy season, the waters flood in, all your possessions are soaked, there are rats, no toilets, and neither you nor your children are safe. 

The husband, then a young man of 30, had suffered an accident and the resultant brain injury left him with debilitating health issues, including an unpredictable loss of consciousness.  He had a wife and young son and was desperate to support them, but his injuries led to losing any work he could get.  As you know, there are no official social safety nets in Cambodia.

If there are more hopeless scenarios in today’s society, there can’t be many. 

In this very dark time for the dad, he attempted to end his life in the lavatory we had built for the house nearby his lean-to.  

This was when we learned of his family and him.  We knew we would do whatever we could to help these good and decent people have a chance not just for a better life - but to live.  

First, we were able to give him some small jobs to bring in some income at a tough time. Second, we built them a  house - #73 - and he and his wife live there now with their son, almost six, and a daughter, almost two. 

We spoke with both his wife and him recently, sitting in their home with their two rambunctious children playing around us. (Our conversation was in Khmer; this is a rough translation.)

“Heartprint changed my life,” he said. “ When we stood here, and I saw that first delivery of steel, I knew for sure would build me a house.  I knew they were not Cambodian, but makes me feel happy and warm to know people cared about me and my family. Even when was finished, they checking on us and give me small jobs.”  

We do give him small jobs - he is an excellent mechanic, and helps keep our motorbikes and other things in running order. He also takes on other work, but it is all intermittent, so we always are on the look-out for other opportunities. 

Having a Hearprint house and the resultant association with Heartprint programs has changed the mom’s role in the home and her view of the future. She learns new skills every day.  As importantly, she has gained confidence and self-esteem and is digging deep to expand her world.

“Before, we didn’t have good house and no money and when rainy season came rain came inside house.  But Heartprint also gave me skills.  I was a lady staying home and not making money but now I can make bracelets and crochet and sewing. I have skills now and can do more.

“I’m really happy I have changed a lot from person who knows nothing.  Others help - but I have to help myself, too because we don’t want to see they are disappointed.”

Mom participates in our Tuesday Build a Future program and sells her work in our fair trade shop.  She also has started taking art classes in the Community Centre.  A local artist teaching painting to interested people in our Centre, tells us she has natural innate talent and, with more training, could be a serious painter. She’s even offered her a spot in her gallery to sell her creations.

This is what we mean when we say that meeting basic needs leads to solid opportunity.  And even the fulfillment of dreams you didn’t believe you could dream.

Being involved with Hearprint also changes the lives of those of us who work here, either full-time or as a volunteer/intern for a few months. 

Mya, who joined us a few short weeks ago, already senses her life is changing from her association with the kids and families in our Community Centre.  An intern from Australia, she was in university for only a short while before deciding to defer and do something else while she figured out the right path forward. Luckily, she came here to work with our kids and families six days a week. She arrived hoping it would help shape her perspective on what to do and how to prepare for her future.  It’s working.

She’s working with the kids on hygiene and some inclusion electives.  She helps with planning and laptop instruction.  She has been part of the yoga sessions with the kids.  She already feels a shift in her perspective and still has weeks and weeks to go.  Who knows, she may stay longer. 

“These kids,” she said, “get so excited over everything we do.  They are the happiest kids I’ve ever seen.”

When we see this joy bubbling from deep within these kids who have so little, we know that the smallest (and biggest) things we do are essential.   They teach us how noticing and appreciating the smallest of daily gifts is life-changing. 

You can see all of this come together in our annual Family Day.

We don’t have a lot of progress markers.  You know how it is when you work and play with someone daily; you don’t notice if they grow an inch or two.  It’s the same in seeing progress in our community centre on a daily basis.  But when we looked at the video from Family Days of years past compared to this year’s Big Day:  Wow!  

The self-assurance of our speakers (and the improvement in their English!), the confidence of our performers, and the overwhelming attendance and participation of their families showed how the daily work - all of us together - has created change.  

From houses and toilets to classes and safe play: We are all working for change, which is changing us all. 

Thank you for being a part of us - and our countdown to House #100. As you can see, a house is just the beginning. More than steel, it’s an installation of Hope. 

Wendy O'BrienComment