Grace and Gratitude: "The house built of hands"

By Sybil Nishioka, Editor

[February 28, 2020]  On the Sunday before Lent, I found myself sitting in the pews at St. Elizabethʻs Honolulu.  Over the years, I have been there for specific purposes (the baptism of the Bishopʻs grandson being one) but on this Sunday, I was simply there to worship like everyone else.  

While folks trickled in, I couldnʻt help but notice the vast diversity of congregants in both age and ethnicity.  As the pews filled and the worship crew gathered, something remarkable happened. One of the young acolytes bounded out from the group, and started greeting people with a warm embrace and a smile as sunny as the golden streaks in her hair.  Her energy and vibe stood out in stark contrast to the somber and serious faces that were arriving, but each person she greeted, immediately lit up.  It was a surprising and charming sight to behold!

​The service was lovely, the sermon superb, but it was what happened during the announcements that inspired this article. Father David Gierlach called upon that very acolyte, and introduced her as Shellieanne.  What followed was the reading of a poem she had written. Her words were tinged with pain and hardship, reflecting the dark times in her young life. But it was also filled with grace and gratitude, a thank you of sorts to the congregation she calls the "house built of hands."  It was captivating, moving, and far beyond anything I could imagine a young girl could write. 

Following the service, I was hoping to find out more about this remarkable young lady who made such an impression.  She was with her father and younger brother, still among the pews, with a line of people waiting to speak to her.  I waited patiently, her gleaming smile never fading as she spoke with each person.  When I finally got an opportunity to chat with her, I was shocked to learn she was only 12, much too young to have endured so much and to write so eloquently, but here she was. 

Shellie shared how much the folks at St. Elizabethʻs have helped her and her family. (See her comments under her picture below.)  Later, in an e-mail exchange, she shared her goals: "to have a good education, be financially stable, happy, and to continue writing.  I also want to pursue a career in the church (I want to be a priest) and a poet/writer."  I have a feeling she will excel in all those areas and more.

Shellieʻs story is a wonderful reminder of the strangers in our midst that may need a helping hand, but too often go unnoticed. The folks of St. Elizabethʻs have shown how acts of kindness and caring can impact the lives of others, bringing them to Christ, but they have also been recipients of the grace and fruits of their efforts, so nurtured with love and compassion.

​With both Shellie and her fatherʻs blessing, I share her poem.  "I hope the people who read my poetry enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing them," says Shellie. 

Me

By Shellianne, Age 12

Me. 

My name is Shellie. 

I am a child of words, of books, of music, of life, of snow, of orenda, and sunshine. 

A child of hardships survived through with help of our lord the divine.

I'm a learner, a seer, a sister, and a daughter.

Born a gift for my father. 

A gift box baby.

 
I come from a house built of hands 

My playground is the church, a daughter of the cross 

I am; I’ve trudged through tragedy,

bent down low wishing for the final blow, 

I've held myself high and whispered to my brother I spy,

I spy a mother whose label is a lie.


I've watched my father die.

I held my brother to me as we laid there in the house built of hands to cry.

I dream of words, of wisdom, longed for knowledge.

I've wandered invisible lands, and made unbelievable plans,

I've seen the orenda in the ordinarys, 

I've walked with an angel (Godʻs fairies). 


I live surrounded by violence and hatred and tragedy 

my heart's edges so raggedy;

I live in a house built of hands.

the foundation a cross.

the people underneath as close to my heart as the steeple above.


I am a dove.

I live in a place uneven but i made it through worse and we will make do.

as they say a triangle is the strongest shape in nature. 

I grew fast when i was young.

I had no time to slowly mature.

Perhaps because at birth I was premature.


I come from pain and sorrow 

but with the help of the big man in the sky 

I (a sparrow)  learned to fly 

my pain and hardship made a path for me in worship, 

in the house built of hands like a house of cards one ace at a time I built my plans,

I found support  to pull me out of my invisible planes switched out for a real plane 

to fly me to the stars and shake hands with the big man in the sky.

"​This poem is about the people around me and how they pushed me upwards even when life was pushing me down, it also describes my life as well as my struggles.

St. Elizabethʻs has impacted my family so much, like when my father was hospitalized and extremely ill they took me in.  They have been so loving, caring, and sweet.  The church means so much to me.  They are my gateway to opportunities and my house built of hands. As a growing child going through the hardships of Hawaiʻi they supported my family and gave us a safe space."

​-- Shellianne

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oren·​da | \ ōˈrendə \  : extraordinary invisible power believed by the Iroquois Indians to pervade in varying degrees all animate and inanimate natural objects as a transmissible spiritual energy capable of being exerted according to the will of its possessor (www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary)