Three Leaves, Three Roots and a Dream - A reading of Ann E. Burg's Serafina's Promise

"Banza, I have nothing to give..." so says Serafina to her dog as he wags his tail and follows her. Serafina is busy with the daily chores she ought to complete. She has no school to go to, no time to play with friends either. But the faithful dog follows her, seeking only her love and affection. The elders tell her that a 'kind heart is the fanciest dress' and Serafina is kind. But she is unhappy too.

Serafina's Promise by Ann E. Burg is one book that will stay with me forever. I read it in one go - a story in verse form. It revolves around the little Serafina, who grows up in the earthquake-ridden, flood-prone Haiti. Full of Haitian wisdom, the book makes a compelling read. Just when the 11 year old's dream of going to school is fulfilled, hurdles cross her path. Serafina is beset with questions. She cannot find answers to all her doubts. Why does one need to remember? Wherein lies the bravery of fighting if it means losing your life? What is it that the flag remembers? Is the petty grudge she harbors for her friend who goes to school really worth it? What does it mean to be really educated? Is learning a colonial language a betrayal or a means to achieving a position from where one can speak? She slowly discovers for herself the complex thing called life.

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Serafina yearns to be a doctor. But poverty has trapped her. The death of her brother is followed by the birth of another one, whose arrival she thinks will make up for all the losses she has suffered. His birth is a hope that clings to Serafina's heart. She wishes to be just like Antoinette Solaine, the nurse, who tends to the children in the village. Grandma tells Serafina to stand up for herself - if you want your eggs hatched, you need to sit on them yourself. Serafina's father too pushes her to speak, to assert, to convince others of her beliefs. Despite the restraints imposed on her dreams by her financial conditions, Serafina promises herself to become a doctor, to save those in her village from ailments, from misery, from death.

Serafina's mother is reluctant to send her to school but she loves her and helps her wade through the rising waters. Serafina's father is poor but 'happy' that he could 'afford ribbons for Serafina's hair'. Amidst all the trials and tribulations, Serafina discovers something :

I wonder what hunger is like

without a family

to fill the emptiness.....

It is not a perfect family but it definitely is the strong foundation on which rests Serafina's life. After all the failures, one has to try again. After falling down, one ought to get up again. No matter what happens, one has to "beat the drum and dance again".

The book emphasizes how history is a significantly defining factor of who we are today. Remembering is a way of showing respect. Remembering is a means of assuring that the past sacrifices were not in vain. It is important not to forget so that it does not happen again - the injustice, the anguish, the sacrifice. 

Three leaves, Three roots......

To throw down is to forget.....

To gather up is to remember.....

'Twa Fey' or Three Leaves - The song is indigenous to Haitian culture - a song of recollecting, of bearing testimony to the struggles the country has been through. It is part of incorporating a 'collective consciousness' among listeners, and singers. They stand united in memory, in thoughts. Twa Fey is a song of blending in, of unifying, of solidarity within a group that shares a common past. Twa Fey for Serafina stands for her family, her village, her country.

Serafina gives back. Her kindness makes her courageous too. And in testing situations, she fights back. She keeps her promise. She embraces the 'conqueror's language' for the time being, to equip herself, to gather the right tools to bring the change she longs for....

The sun rises

the sun sets,

little by little the bird

builds its nest!

The book is meant for young readers. Brimming with wisdom and raising topics to help young minds think and interrogate the 'givens', Serafina's Promise is a promise of betterment to reconstruct the society on the foundation of hope, memory and courage.

The verse form of the narrative is captivating and keeps the reader engaged. Ann E. Burg has managed to insinuate on topics that would be tough for young minds to comprehend in an ingenious way. The everyday struggles of people living in poverty, the desperate need for medical aid, the utmost and indispensable necessity of dreams and a firm belief that they will come true one day are some of the crucial themes in the book. The "stethoscope" may be "broken" but its very presence is an indicator of hope. The "doctor's bell" may be like a "misplaced star" but it still emits light. 

In the poem titled "The Problem with History Books", Ann E. Burg states that "research has its limits.." It is true as far as fiction is concerned. And the beauty of poetry is precisely this - it lets you expand your horizon. It lets you imagine. Serafina's Promise gives space for imagination to soar as the little girl dreams and ventures on a path that is unknown to her. As she tries to light up the lives of those around her, her own life starts radiating too. After all the devastation of floods and earthquakes, her dream lingers as a promise that she can keep forever. It will "sprout" too like the seeds she has sown in the soil. It is the "history of the human heart" (to borrow the words of William Collins) that the mesmerizing poetry of Burg's novel chronicles - a history of hope, of dreams, of promise. 

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Promise....

When my son's first grade was over, he brought home lot of material - like worksheets completed in school, journals written in the classroom, craft-work etc.... I always like to go through all that he has done, like most mothers. And more so, because it gives me a peek into his mind. 

The journals that his teacher made the kids write was all about the things that happened everyday. So, it was more like a diary. The best part about reading a kid's diary is that there is no beating about the bush. They write their mind, literally. There is no 'construction' of the 'self' for the reader. They are autobiographies in their purest form. There is no embellishment of any sort. There are words that convey what happened, and there are pictures scribbled with the best possible effort. 

One such entry in the journal was 'Mother'. They had to write some things/facts about their mothers. It surprised me that he observed me so closely. He was correct on most of the things - like what I like to do, where I like to go etc. But the thing that struck me the most, the thing that touched me and tickled me to the core was the answer to the question - What do you like the most about your mom?

My son's answer was brief and straight - My mom never breaks a promise.

I cannot utter in words what this made me feel. I have told him time and again that a promise to yourself, or to your friend is something you ought to keep. There have been times when he saw that despite difficulties, I kept my word. He would ask me why and I would reply 'because I had promised'. I feel proud that he is imbibing that positive trait from me. A few words came to my mind and I write them here:

To be a true friend

Be true to your word

To be a good person

Be true to your word

A promise you make

Defines not who you are

But a promise you keep

Speaks volumes about you

Sometime back, I wrote a poem with my son in mind. You can read it here - Darkness Scares me Not, It Stares at my Greatness - We all are great if we choose to.... 

Linking to Blog-a-rhythm's Day 7 of the #BaraThon #Blogging challenge

To read previous posts written for #BarAthon, see below:

Stranger than Fiction

Begin with a Clean Slate

Frangible Structures

Greed or Sacrifice....

Outgrown

Delusions

It's Still Okay...!

He remembered the time he had proposed to her. She had blushed. He had hugged her. Their love story had been perfect. Their marriage blissful. There were no complaints. She had asked him to love her unconditionally. He had promised. She had said," Promise me you will always love me. When I am angry, when I am happy, when I am sad, when I am upset...Even when I grow old and stoop and wrinkle, you will always love me." And he had promised. He had asked her to promise something too...'Never leave me". She had said 'Yes!'

It was five years ago. An accident had changed things now. A severe head injury had made her lose her memory. She did not remember anything now. Her name, his name, their love, their promises. 

He reminded her everyday. He told her stories about their past. He declared his love to her an umpteen number of times, a declaration that only evoked a response of confusion. 

One day, after he had told her that he loved her, she asked, "Why?"

"I had promised to love you. You are my life."

He told her about the promise they had made to each other five years ago.

"I am not old, but I am not yours either. I don't remember anything. I have broken my promise. Even then you love me?" A look of bewilderment passed on her face.

"Yes, I still love you. You have not broken your promise. You survived the accident, even though the doctors had given up. There was something that stopped you from going. I want to think that it was our love."

Tears trickled on her cheeks like rain drops. He wiped them off. 

"You don't mind when I look away? You don't feel heart-broken when I shrug off your touch? Is it still okay?"

He held her hands with a warmth that she felt, perhaps for the first time, in so many months. 

"Yes, it's still okay."

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Her palpitations had increased. Her speech was incoherent. She had hardly slept. She could not sit. Her eyes seemed to be popping out of her head. Medicines were not helping. Friends reached out to her to tell her to try relaxation techniques. Stop the pill, they told her. She could not hear them. She had faith, faith in her husband that he would cure her. 

He had faith too - faith in the medicine. 

He sat there. He was working on his computer. He had promised to be with her. 

The chest pain suffocated her. She gasped for fresh air. 

She had not slept for days. She had lost count.

The phone rang. She did not pick. She could hardly talk. He answered.

"Yes, she is fine......She has the pain, still......No, no the medicine will help her.......No....she did not sleep......"

".....the palpitations are there.....No, she could not sleep.....Don't worry.....It's still okay...."

Written for IndiSpire Edition 96