Grace Update | Grace Profiles | Changing of the Guard | Your Love Has Built a Home

‘Your love has built a home’
By Eric J. Parkinson Founder, President Emeritus VeAhavta

(As the VeAhavta torch passes from California to Michigan, a reflection from the man who saw Grace, and made it possible.)

It’s been over eight years since I found myself on a plane, alone, heading for Colombo to somehow help a Sri Lankan minister establish and develop a new orphanage in Trincomalee for what was originally intended to be just 20 children. Although I didn’t know it at the time, my first trip was the beginning of a sacred mission for me – one that would demand ever-increasing amounts of my energy and time. It was also the start of an adventure of unimaginable twists and turns, joys and sorrows. It was the beginning of Grace in so many different ways.

Before September 21, 2001, I’d never been to Sri Lanka or even to Asia. I knew nothing about relief work or starting or running a nonprofit – certainly not one in a foreign country torn apart by civil war. And so, naturally, during the 35 hours it took me to make that initial journey from California, clouds of doubt began to gather on my mental horizon: What could I possibly offer to assist needy children located halfway around the world?

My doubts deepened in the days following my arrival as I began to comprehend the daunting nature of the tasks that lay ahead. Five days after disembarking in Colombo, I arrived in Trincomalee, via Batticaloa, exhausted and thoroughly overwhelmed.

But on the second day in Trinco, I discovered – in the eyes of a child – an answer to my question; I learned what it was I had to offer.

I was giving a ride to a young boy dressed in dirty, tattered clothes who lived on the beach. I held his hands and spun him around until we were both dizzy. As I stood him back on his feet in the sand, our eyes met, and for a split-second his eyes were transformed into those of my own son. Startled, I looked more closely at the boy’s face, but that fleeting visualization of my son’s eyes was gone.

That evening, I went back to my room at the Nilavili Beach Hotel (a landmark later destroyed during the 2004 tsunami) and did a lot of thinking about the boy on the beach and my own son. How was it that my son was born into a prosperous country with so many advantages while the child I had seen that afternoon was born into poverty and war? Neither of the two were allowed to choose where he would be born or under what economic conditions, or what color his skin would be, or whether he would be female or male. No one consulted with them before these decisions were made; no one consulted any of us for that matter. Did any of us do anything to “merit” being born into conditions that are better or worse than anyone else? No. But for some mysterious twist of fate that I’m probably better off not understanding, I could have been born in Sri Lanka and the child on the beach could have been my son.

My mind reeled a bit with this realization and I found myself thinking about a story contained in the Christian Scriptures about a man born blind. Some of Jesus’ followers looked at the man and asked, “Rabbi, who sinned – this man or his parents – to warrant his being born blind?” Jesus is said to have replied, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.” (John 9:1-3.)  What is the “work of God”? Elsewhere, Jesus makes abundantly clear his opinion that it is to love one another.

It then became clear what assistance I could offer a 10-year-old boy struggling to survive in an IDP camp – the same thing I offer my own children: love. Love is what’s needed. Love is the best thing that any of us can ever offer to another human being. Economic support alone may fill a belly, but it won’t fill a soul; only love can do that. Somehow, love would be sufficient.

As I look back on the eight years since this journey started, I realize that love has been sufficient; and I’ve come to understand even more fully why, when I started the organization, I named it VeAhavta, a Hebrew verb that means, “You shall love” in English. 

And now, for me, the journey is taking yet another turn: it’s time for me to step aside and allow VeAhavta and the Grace Care Center to be managed by others. The current times require new ideas, a higher level of administrative talent than I am qualified to provide, and people of renewed passion.

I leave VeAhavta in the capable hands of some truly exceptional people who have been longtime donors and volunteers, most notably the organization’s new president, James A. (“Grasshopper”) Mitchell.  I first had the privilege of meeting Jim in early 2005 in Trincomalee.  He is a professional journalist and the author of the book, But for the Grace: Profiles in Peace from a Nation at War (Mansion Field, 2009).  Most importantly, he is committed to the welfare of the residents of the Grace Care Center and to the vision of VeAhavta.

The other new corporate officers are equally committed to Grace and the VeAhavta mission and have also been longtime donors and volunteers – they are: Dr. Cheryl Huckins, Vice President for Operations; Dr. Naresh Gunaratnam, Vice President for Community Outreach; Lori Kostoff, Treasurer; and Lynn Helland, Secretary.

I want to thank these great friends and supporters, and our new Board of Directors, for their commitment to help guide Grace through the next step of this sacred mission. Thank you all so much! And a very heartfelt Thank you! to the many VeAhavta donors and volunteers who have been a part of this adventure. Your love has built a home.