Spring and COVID-19
Looking out my office window, I see sunshine brightening the green of the sprouting grass. Dandelions bloom, the dogwood tree leafs out, birds dart around the yard seeking sticks and down and bark to build nests that will shelter the eggs that hold new life. It is Spring, and the world is being made anew.
But what kind of world will it be? With COVID-19 sweeping throughout the globe, we are facing new threats and new opportunities. Some people are frightened; some blasé, perhaps thinking nothing bad will ever happen to them.
Yet it is not only the elderly and those with chronic illness who are at risk of getting seriously sick. Young people have died, no matter how healthy they were to begin with. We do not know how our bodies will respond to this new virus.
But it isn’t just about us. We are being asked to stay away from social situations not to protect those around us, as well. We can infect others before we know we’re sick. Being careful to avoid infection is important for the good of the whole. It’s not all about us, and maybe it’s time we stopped focusing so much on self-actualization and remembered we are a community. We are in this life together, and together, we can seek a new way to be in the world.
How Will We Respond?
In a recent opinion column, Thomas L. Friedman wrote, “There is the world B.C. – Before Corona – and the world A.C. – After Corona.” [1] We don’t know how big this pandemic will become, but it has already made an impact. How will we changed? What will that A.C. world be like? How will build a new life out of what is left in our country and in our hearts?
In the long run, who we become will depend on what we choose to do now and in the days ahead.
In the short run, those of us with homes and health care may avoid the worst of this pandemic, but before it is over, we are all likely to know someone who got sick, if not someone who died. People without financial resources, who sleep outside or in crowded shelters, who live in refugee camps or institutions, are at great risk. How much of the billions of dollars our federal government plans to throw at the problem will be spent on taking care of them?
We are intimately connected. A threat to one of us is a threat to us all. Will the virus teach us that? Will we insist on taking care of the poor, the widow, the orphan, the stranger? Or, as we barricade ourselves inside our house and forget about those who have no homes in which to hide, will we offer crumbs to the poor and take care of the wealthy? The belief that putting money in the pockets of the rich will provide for those who have less is unproven. When we act on that misguided belief, we make life ever worse for those without.
Feeling Helpless
Yet what can we do? Few of us have power or influence. We can sign petitions, write letters, make phone calls. Some of us work in fields that are needed now more than ever, such as health care, emergency response, food production, distribution, and it helps to have a role to play. Yet when we are told to stay away from other people how can we help them? The elderly, the mentally ill, the grieving suffer from a lack of human contact. Can we send relief workers to support them? How do we do this safely? And who gets to decide?
I’ve read articles pointing out that we humans rally around a crisis. After earthquakes, floods, terrorist attacks, we come together and support one another. The authors conclude that we will do so this time, as well.
But will we? During the plague, people so feared dying from the illness that they abandoned neighbors and even family members to a lonely death. In places where the Coronavirus is widespread, there is talk about rationing care, because there are only so many ventilators and medicine to go around. British researcher, Christian Pagel, who studied the response to the H1N1 epidemic, told reported Sheri Fink that “[s]ome people are going to be told they don’t matter enough.” [2]
How horrible to be the person who has to make such a decision.
At Black Friday sales, we scrabble over one another and fight to get the best deals. Now, we’re emptying grocery store shelves, stocking up for months, with no concern for others who need food and paper products and pet supplies. How aggressive will we become when so many of us are critically that we can’t all be taken care of? Fear compels us to do frightening things.

Pulling Together
Whether their behavior is learned or innate, some people sacrifice themselves for the common good. Others get tired of fighting, so give up. Still others fight bitterly until they die. Is it possible, with so many emotions flying around, for us to come together?
Before coronavirus became a concern in the United States, I thought that in this column I would talk about the power of spring to give us new energy, to spur plans, goals, dreams, to invite us to build a new life. In that vein, I thought of a Tanzanian tale about harambee.
The Swahili word harambee means to pull together. It is the official motto of Kenya. Though it has been used to justify forcing citizens to contribute financially to politicians or government officials, the term was meant as a call for community members to rally together to help one another.
In her book The Return of the Light [3], Carolyn McVicker Edwards tells this story of how the animals used harambee to bring back the light. Her book is a collection of stories about the winter solstice, that time when the days start getting longer, but since spring in Oregon often means the return of the light after months of gray skies, the tale seemed appropriate to the spring equinox, as well.
The Story of Harambee
In the early days of the world, there was no light. The animals fell into holes, bumped into one another, and couldn’t see to gather food. Every day, they fought over imagined slights. That they survived at all was a miracle, though they didn’t survive well.
Finally, Lion called a meeting of all the animals. Something needed to change, and it would only happen if they banded together. The animals agreed, crying together, “Harambee.”
So together, they problem-solved. They had noticed that when it rained, a crack would appear in the sky, and from that crack, light spilled. If they could slip through the crack, maybe they could find the light and bring some home with them. So they came up with a plan. Climbing up a ladder of spider silk, Spider, Mouse, and Fly crept into the crack in the sky. The other animals stayed on earth and sang to give them courage.
Once the three creatures squeezed into the realm on the other side of the sky, they found light everywhere. They could see!
When they made their way to the king of the realm, they asked for some light to take home. Before they could have the light, though, they had to pass three tests: they had to mow down a field of grass, eat an impossible amount of meat, and then guess which box held the light. To pass the tests, an army of ants swarmed up to help them, and they worked together as a team.
Finally, with the box of light in their hands, they rushed home before the king and his people could change their minds and stop them.
By pulling together, they made their world livable. Will we pull together, too?
Helping One Another
Of course, many of us have already pulled together. Dedicated and selfless individuals throughout the world are educating, protecting, serving, nursing, and organizing. Lawmakers are working together in ways they haven’t in a long time.
True, some individuals still dismiss the seriousness of the problem, even refusing to take precautions, forgetting that what they do is not just about them.
So what does it mean to pull together in a time of pandemic?
First of all, we try not to infect anyone. If we have the ability to stay home or minimize our contact with others, we are privileged, and pulling together means we don’t abuse that privilege. If we have a job that is needed to make the community safer, we go to work. It is important to do what must be done, and it is important to be as careful as we can be when we are out of our homes. If we have families, we need to be careful when we’re at home.
That doesn’t mean we should fear everyone or everything. It doesn’t mean we should use up precious supplies of masks and gloves. Nor does it mean we should hoard food and other supplies. When we pull together, we share.
Today, those of us with internet access are fortunate. Some of us don’t have that luxury, but for those who do, it has made isolation much less daunting. We can use this precious resource to reach out to family, friends, and strangers, offering supportive words, music, and hope. Virtual touch is not the same as physical touch, but it is something that didn’t exist in 1918, when the Spanish flu decimated populations.
Life Goes On
This is an unsettling time. We don’t know what is next, and we don’t like that. Of course, we never know what is next, but we go through life as if we do. Now we can’t pretend the future is secure.
Of course, at the hospital where I work, the majority of patients do not have Coronavirus. People get sick with all the things we’ve always gotten sick with.
Other problems still exist, as well. Our climate is still heating up, and pollution and habitat destruction continue to take lives. Violence, oppression, abuse, extortion, assault, and torture have not stopped just because COVID-19 is spreading around the world. Even the democratic primary continues. Life goes on around the edges, in the corners, in our hearts.
Joy Continues, Too
Just as life contains hardship and heartache, it also contains beauty and joy.
While walking my dog through the park the other day and thinking about the pandemic, I was struck by a pair of golden finches that alighted on a fence nearby. Flitting from the fence to the ground, they fed on some dandelion seeds. They darted to a bush, then back again, going about their lives as if there were no global warming, no virus, no stock market crash. For them, this spring was like any other, with new life bursting up from the ground, food to eat, and supplies to build the nest that would cradle their babies.
The return of the sun on this bright spring day reminds us that the world is a blessed and beautiful place. Most of us will survive this pandemic. We’ll live another day or week or decade or two. During spring, possibilities abound. None of us are immune to illness and death. One day, it will be our turn to let go and leave this realm. Yet as long as we have breath, we have the opportunity to move forward with appreciation for all the grace of light and life.
Hearts Made New
As the threat of coronavirus obfuscates other news and as we are forced to remember our mortality, may we choose to come together to create a world that supports not just the rich and powerful, but also the weak, the vulnerable, and the lonely. Disasters and diseases remind us that we are one. What befalls the poorest among us will one day befall the wealthiest. There is no “us” and “them” any more. Partisan politics will not get us through a pandemic safely. They only make it worse.
How will we behave when we are afraid? Will we hoard supplies, barricade ourselves behind locked doors, protect our rights with weapons, and ignore the cries of the helpless? Or will we remember that we are one and pull together? We have a choice.
May we choose life. May our hearts be made new. And, once this pandemic is over, may we continue to choose the path of life and light and springtime.
In faith and fondness,
Barbara
Credits
- Friedman, Thomas L., “Our New Historical Divide: B.C. and A.C. – the World Before Corona and the World After,” The New York Times, March 17, 2020, https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/17/opinion/coronavirus-trends.html?fbclid=IwAR1G3SUJfICVnlGYCmkQ4nMU4iyUFkjHgdP7PoGD9teWddTeAB-AIkT7wnU, accessed 3/18/20.
- Fink, Sheri, “The Hardest Questions Doctors May Face: Who Will Be Saved? Who Won’t?,” The New York Times, March 21, 2020, https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/21/us/coronavirus-medical-rationing.html, accessed 3/21/20.
- Edwards, Carolyn McVicker, The Return of the Light: Twelve Tales from Around the World for the Winter Solstice, New York: Marlowe & Co., 2005, 109-116.
Photo by Gary Bendig on Unsplash
Copyright © 2020 Barbara E. Stevens All Rights Reserved