Bahia

I was moved last week. I was reading about one of the airplanes that had gone down in recent weeks and a story jumped out at me. It was about 12-year old Bahia. I hope you’ve heard about her.

Bahia and her mother were traveling by air (to and from where matter far less). The plane went down. Her mother was lost forever. Bahia clung to a piece of the shattered aircraft unable to see anything in the darkness around her. She said she could hear voices but couldn’t see anything.

Do you know how long she hung on to that piece of scrap? 13 hours.

(Let’s put this in some bad perspective: I can barely hold a 8 lb barbell at my side, in the air, for 3 minutes less than even imagine clinging on to a piece of metal in the cold dark sea- for 13 hours- with no one to support you.)

When Bahia was saved, after calling out to a passing ship, her father commented on who his daughter is. He said she is a “frail young girl”. Here’s where I nearly fell out of my seat. Frail? Dear Sir, there is nothing frail about this dynamo. She’s one of the strongest people I’ve ever read about- in body, mind and spirit.

This article (read in the New York Times, my daily choice for reading) gave me a great deal to ponder over the last few days. It brought about thoughts of perception, self-perception and that of others, cultural descriptions of youth and women, in particular, what strength and frailty really mean, etc…

I was so moved by Bahia’s strength that her name as gone on a list of “children’s names” if I ever get an opportunity to name any. “Bahia” is one of the ones that has more meaning. Others are just silly and fun, like, “Lily .. Pad”. My husband really hates that one. I suppose I’m an artist at heart.

Let’s celebrate Bahia this week by thinking about her, her ordeal and our own strengths.