A child’s birthday in sanctuary
Lulu turned 5 yesterday. She celebrated with her beaming dad and mom, who had baked a couturier-confection dream dress of a cake with Barbie rising from the top. Lulu was overjoyed. A few adult friends from the refugee centre visited for the occasion. The cake was shared with some of the very kind monks whose home she has lived in for the past 16 months. Little did they know when they signed on decades ago they would be living with a young child. Little did anyone know. Yes, Lulu turned 5 yesterday, living in sanctuary, in Toronto, in the Year of Our Lord 2013. Sanctuary: A sacred place. A container for holy things, holy people. A place where God dwells. The holiest part of the church. Sanctuary: A safe haven. A place of asylum protecting people from legal action or deportation until the issue can be resolved. Sanctuary: A growing movement in Stephen Harper’s Canada, where trade partners are absolved of any inkling of their inability to protect their own people from racism, persecution and death, and where recent regulations make it almost impossible for newly arrived ref- ugees to have the time and opportunity to make a strong, just claim.
Sanctuary: A family resort? No, wait. The last resort for this family who fled from attacks and death threats back home in Hungary for being workers in the field of human rights. For being Roma. The last resort after their refugee claim was denied.
The fact that their lawyer neglected to have a key letter regarding their life and work in Hungary translated resulted in the decision. Case closed. When this negligence came to the attention of the Sanctuary Coalition, they found them a new lawyer. However, before the lawyer could make a case for reopening their file, deportation was ordered. The coalition sought sanctuary from churches in the city to prevent them from being sent back to live under the threat of death.
Sanctuary: The church basement in which this family sleeps. There is a fenced-in backyard where they go for fresh air. There is a computer where they go for news of the world, and await news of their case. There is a member of the parish who brings her little grandson once a week to play. There is a little girl who visits with her mom. Lulu has never been to school. She never wants to go. She never wants to leave her parents. She has very few memories of life before sanctuary. Imagine. It is a call to action and a call to prayer. Blessings on this little child. May she grow in courage and grace in Canada. Blessings on these parents. May they never lose faith in what they have done. May they never lose hope is what is possible. Blessings on these men of God who have opened their home. May they stay young at heart in the presence of this child. Blessings on the lawyers who take on such cases. May they grow in wisdom, and never grow tired. Blessings on each citizen who wakes up to this reality and calls our government to task. We are called to be better than this. Finally, may God forgive me and my feminist soul, but blessings on Barbie and the birthday joy she brought Lulu. Hmmm . . . I wonder. Sanctuary Barbie? Would there be a market? No, she wouldn’t come with a dream home. At least, not yet. Susan Whelehan is a writer and storyteller in Toronto.