Grant us peace

A child’s voice echoes down the hall in a plaintive, “I don’t want to say goodbye…” By tomorrow night she and her best buddies in the world will be in three different countries. Ten days of connection and fun have crashed to a close for this child, and a gaggle of other little ones who have few playmates where they live who speak their heart language.

I’m with you, little Lanna, I don’t want to say goodbye either.

This afternoon at the country park I sat by a fire with Lanna and her little friends, roasting sausages and German bread, a small green oasis in the midst of a huge city. Beside me was a young Chinese woman who lives in the far north and across from us an American who commutes back and forth to handle finances. At each fire pit the gathering was a veritable stew of cultures -- English the primary language, but sidebars of Cantonese, Tagalog, German, and Mandarin crossing into the conversations.

The children took off to play in the open glade and woods while the adults gathered with a guitar. Then a hike up into the hills, over crests, through bamboo forests, and finally down to the car park where the bus waits to take us back to the conference grounds. New Year’s Day in Hong Kong, amidst good friends.

I don’t want to say goodbye either.

Tonight we gathered for communion, for presentations of thank you gifts, for final connecting thoughts. Looking around the room my eyes washed over the faces of new friends, and of other friends of decades. Families with little ones, couples whose children are grown, singles.

Bright, vivacious Ruthie holds my hands and tells me her dreams. The three young American moms each hug me in turn and tell me how much they appreciate having someone older come to join them. “We have no older models,” they say. “Thank you for being with us.”

Later I help two friends clean up the snack area, chatting companionably as only women do who have years of history. We too go our separate ways today, three countries by tomorrow night. Helma presses bananas and granola bars into my hands. “You leave early to travel. You get no breakfast. Here, something to eat. You have coffee in your room?” Ever caring, ever the German Frau to all of us, no matter I’m her senior by many years.

We end the evening singing a blessing.
“May the peace of the Lord be with you, my friends.
Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world,
Have mercy on us, grant us peace.”

We separate, but not forever. I don’t want to say goodbye, so I will just say, “until the next time.”