Seattle Times Story

December 15, 2008 | Bahia Street

Read the November 28, 2008 story about Rita and Margaret.

2008 End of Year Letter

December 11, 2008 | Bahia Street

Dear Friends,

I begin this letter in my kitchen in the soft predawn of a winter’s morning, a cup of tea beside the computer, feeling virtuous to be up at this secret hour before light has made the streets mundane. Really it is after seven, not so early, but these are the easy virtues of long winter nights, cheap but relished. I hear the intimate beat of rain melting sharp edges of sound. I sometimes think that those not born in the Northwest can only hate these winter weeks that never seem to get completely light, smugly confident that outsiders can’t understand how these days can give a close-held joy. But I am wrong on this (as usually happens with such uninformed judgments). A few months ago when I knew Rita would be coming to Seattle in November, I was worried. She had been here once before, a few years ago, but that was in early September and she had found even that cold.

“It will be cold and dark, Rita,” I warned her. “The trees bare, it rains all the time. I think you may not like it much.”

“Oh, Margaret,” Rita said. “Aren’t the dark days when people there drink hot chocolate, or wine, and talk? I am sure I’ll love it. I’ve always thought that I have never experienced ‘cozy’ in its full self. Now I have a chance, don’t I?”

So I resisted my Northern urge to fret about whether the Northwest would show itself at its best for Rita. She was fine while she was here-and every day she had a hot chocolate.

Rita, Nancy and I used the brief time Rita was here to work on budgets and plan strategy (at a time when many nonprofits are failing because of the world economic crisis, how can we secure Bahia Street?). Rita and I also found time to relax and talk. Sitting at this same kitchen table where I now write, Rita pulled out a piece of paper wrapped in a bright magenta cloth that appeared to bear an embroidered orange heart.

“Look at this,” she said. “It’s from Lourdes, one of the girls at Bahia Street.” Rita held the letter for a moment and then looked up. “When I first read it, I had tears in my eyes.”

“You still do,” I said.

Rita laughed and wiped away the moisture from her eyelashes. “Lourdes’ mother left her when she was small-her father was never around-so she ended up being brought up by her father’s mother. But the grandmother had never brought up a child before-God knows who brought up the father-and she has a temper. The grandmother uses drugs, and Lourdes was angry and hungry all the time. She was one who wouldn’t sit, lots of emotional problems, but,” Rita shook her head, “I guess I just can’t give up on these girls. She’s been with us some years now and, if you can believe it, she just graduated from the eighth grade and is getting ready to take her exams for escola tecnica (a good-quality high school where Bahia Street focuses on girls). Let’s hope for her. We’ll find out in January if she passed.”

“So,” Rita smoothed out the letter, “she gave this to me just before I left.
-

From Lourdes to Rita
You are a person who is unforgettable. In the beginning, I won’t lie, I didn’t much like you. You were very hard. But afterwards I saw that it wasn’t like that-just as the other girls told me. You are a great person, a solid friend, someone I can trust and a lot more. Sometimes you are a bit demanding. But you welcome everyone, give what is best to everyone. I hope I don’t lose contact with you or Bahia Street. I don’t want to leave Bahia Street, but the hour has come for me to give space for others. I know I won’t leave completely because every day I admire you and send lots of love.

P.S. You aren’t Camila’s (another one of the Bahia Street girls). You are mine!
P.P.S. ‘Friends are like wind,
Sometimes close
Sometimes far
But always in our hearts’
P.P.P.S. I go but with a nostalgia and missing you.

kisses,
Lourdes

Rita was here on a short side-trip from New York after being presented on November 13th with the prestigious World of Children Humanitarian Award at the UN for her work with Bahia Street. It is a delight so see Rita honored on the larger international stage after her years of work in Bahia.

I was not attending this award ceremony because I was in London where, of all auspicious coincidences, the Bahia Street Trust was holding, on the very same day, a Fine Wine Aid auction at Christie’s auction house to benefit Bahia Street. This event made ₤35,000.00 for Bahia Street (about US$50,000.00). The event was possible because of the dedication and connections of Bahia Street Trust Board Members Susie De Paolis and Alex Uxbridge, as well as Nick Coulson among others.

And in Seattle, Board Member Moshe Hecht and Jonathan Van Valin hosted their remarkable annual Thanksgiving Hoohah at Agua Verde (the space generously donated by the restaurant and the food by an anonymous donor). Fantastic food, good wine, fun company, great music, dancing, laughter and much raucous behavior… all to benefit Bahia Street.

Rita has gone back to Bahia now. When I rang her the other day, she said, over the shouting of girls, “It’s great-everyone here seems to have taken care of things well while I was gone.” They had their end-of-year party on December 3rd, and several of the girls going on to high school, including Lourdes, got up to say how much Bahia Street had changed their lives.

Rita also asked me to pass a message to everyone involved with Bahia Street here in the States and in Britain. “It has changed my world to know that so many people in countries that are so far from Bahia can care so much. Please send them my love.”

The dark has slid away and I see the beginnings of a watery reflection that could be the sun. It is time for me to pull out my bike and head for the office. This is our end-of-year letter asking for your support and donations. I know we are asking at an uneasy time; for many of you who have been so generous, you may have to donate less, or perhaps not at all this year. Whatever you feel you can afford, it means a great deal that you share what you have with Bahia Street. We will make sure that it is spent wisely and is stretched far. To all of you, I send my warmest thoughts.

Abraços,
Margaret