SEASON OF NEW GREEN

The green is still that new, "spring" green, even under the
trunk of a fallen tree. 

It is spring here in Tonga.  The grass is that bright shade of “new green”, and the crops are maturing at an incredible rate.  We have green mangoes – so called because they never really turn pink – and golden pineapples once again.  And I’m already salivating because the avocadoes are coming on the trees.

Outcroppings like these can be over very shallow or very deep water,
and the beach is very different at high or low tide.

We enjoyed exploring to a new place the other day, and watched a Tongan family play in the water at a beach that was only about 40 feet across, framed by coral outcroppings.  The parents and five children (ranging in age from about 16 to 3)  jumped into the water, raced the waves up and down the beach, swam through the surf, and tried (and succeeded) to catch a few sea creatures.  One boy caught a  creature of some kind – it had a shell, but I couldn’t tell exactly what it was.  He was quite excited to put it on the wet sand, watch the creature flop toward the water, then grab it again and move it back up on the shore.  He finally wrapped the creature in some aluminum foil, and took it home with him when the family left.  The crustacean will probably become part of the family’s dinner tonight.

The most fascinating moment when the youngest daughter, about 8 or 9, finally freed a crab from an abandoned net the family had dragged out of the water.  She took it over to her 16-year old brother, who talked to her about it for a few minutes. Then she handed him the crab, which surprised me, because she had not let any of her other brothers take the crab.  But she willingly handed the crab over to her oldest brother, and he in turn lobbed the crab back into the water.  Then the family began gathering together, and decided it was time to go home.  Within minutes the beach was quiet, as the last of the family waved goodbye to us.  The rest had already disappeared into the mangroves.

I was fascinated with the conversation and the actions of these two siblings, because they demonstrated to me a change in traditional family dynamics here in Tonga.  Most of the time authority rules here; fathers are feared more than loved, older siblings get their way at the cost of the tender feelings of younger siblings.  But not this time.  This older brother chose to teach his sister about this crab.  Perhaps he explained that it was not edible, or that it was too small.  In any case, her accomplishments and tender feelings were honored, and she in turn honored his greater knowledge, and allowed him to rescue the crab and return it to its saltwater home.  And both she and her brother were happy.  It was like watching a bit of “new green” in family relations here. 

We sat under a mangrove tree like this one.  

What a lesson.  It was an honor to watch this family enjoy each other’s company today, parents and siblings taking turns helping the little three-year old get used to the strong surf, younger brothers and sisters cartwheeling and flopping in the sand, and the older ones jumping into the water from the outcroppings.  Jim and I were blessed to be witnesses as this family shared a simple yet profound expression of love and joy in each other’s company.  As the season of spring continues, it is wondrous to watch the growth in the people of this tiny island.  

THE FRIENDLY ISLANDS

Tui, who never seems to be without his smile.

Selflessness is almost a way of life here, but sometimes it still takes me by surprise.  Twice in the past week our friend  Tui (TOO-ee), who is a counselor here at the high school has stopped by with food for us – mangoes and kumala, a white sweet potato.  This is a man who has five children of his own to feed, but still finds a way to share.  “Tonga’s only mountains are in our hearts,” says a Tongan proverb – meaning that the challenge to create a summit of good character is of prime importance here.  Our friend has created his own mountain, and summited that mountain in quiet, humble service. 

Students would work in this kind of field.

We are not the only objects of his service, either – Tui is working on creating a program that will help students next year (school is over except for exams and national exams).  The program is kind of a work-study program, using the Church welfare farm to raise and sell crops to reduce their school costs.  If four acres of kumala (those white sweet potatoes, like the ones Tui brought us) can be planted and harvested three times during the school year, each boarding student’s total school cost will be cut in half.  Not bad for two or three hours’ work every Saturday morning.  Here’s hoping the area church leaders will approve Tui’s request.

This is a part of the Church farm here in Liahona.

Tui serves for the same reason as most Tongans – they are firmly convinced that their own spiritual welfare, indeed, their whole balance of spirit, emotion, intellect and social connection -  depends on finding ways to share.  Most of the rest of the human race are happiest when we receive something.  Most Tongans are happiest when they have the opportunity to give something.  Perhaps it is because they have so little, that they are so generous –  sort of “give now while I have something to give, because I may need someone else to be charitable toward me next week” thinking.   Whatever the reason, the generous nature of these people, as typified by Tui, is remarkable.  They don’t call Tonga “The Friendly Islands” for nothing.