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 Hiker, skier, singer and optimist Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer lives with her husband near Telluride, Colorado. Her poetry books include Lunaria (Sisu Press, 1999) and If You Listen: Poetry and Photographs of the San Juan Mountains (Western Reflections, 2000) — winner of the Colorado Independent Publishers Association Award in poetry and finalist in the Women Writing the West’s Willa Awards. Her most recent book is Charity: True Stories of Giving and Receiving (Red Rock Press, 2001), which she compiled and edited.
Rosemerry presents inspirational seminars, directs the Telluride Writers Guild, teaches poetry workshops, writes freelance articles, and leads an annual contemporary poetry discussion series at the public library.
In 2000, she won the National Young Careerist competition sponsored by the Business and Professional Women USA, recognizing her career achievements, volunteer work and willingness to help other women succeed. She has an English degree from The Colorado College and a master’s in English language and linguistics from the University of Wisconsin -- Madison.
Neela Sakaria: Thank you for your time Ms. Trommer. Can you tell us how Charity came about and how you got involved with Red Rock Press?
Rosemerry W. Trommer: If there is one thing I believe in, it is the power of kindness. And I believe that every one of us has the ability to be kind and to reach out to our fellow humans in personal and compelling ways. I follow my father's adage--"If you're not giving, you're not living."
This positive outlook made me a good candidate for editing Charity. It's the second book in Red Rock Press's "Virtue Victorious" series. Originally, the publishers had contacted me to write a book in their "Sin" series. I turned out to be too optimistic for that kind of project--and I'm glad!
Neela: The book is a compilation of stories written by many different authors. What was the process like in terms of gathering these stories and editing them? Do you enjoy the role of editor versus author?
RWT: My goal in editing Charity was to preserve individual voices and to include different regions, religions, ethnicities and view points. To this end, I sought the work of professional writers and received hundreds of manuscripts.
I've worked before as an editor for both newspapers and magazines, and I found that editing people's true stories was much different. I did my best to be an invisible editor by making suggestions in numerous drafts and letting the authors have continuous input into their stories. For me, the most difficult part was turning down manuscripts. The most fun was forming relationships with nearly 50 different talented writers.
NS: The subject of the book - charitable deeds, is especially relevant in today's society in light of recent events. What is your reaction to America's response, in terms of a more charitable attitude since September 11?
RWT: It's no surprise to me that people might feel more compassionate since the terrorist attacks. The word compassion literally means "to suffer with."
One positive aspect of the terrorist attacks is that they acted as a great public equalizer--we were all suffering with each other. In less than 20 minutes, all the differences people cling to—grudges, prejudices, and jealousies—were revealed as petty trifles in the face of mass death. Americans were in this together. We’re always “in this” together, but times of adversity can bring out our more charitable sides.
A particularly relevant story in the book that takes place in Safed-Koh Mountains of Afghanistan in 1984. The author, Rob Schultheis, was covering the war there for Time magazine. As he was returning to Pakistan from the war’s frontlines, he and his translator, Etibari, came upon a rural village. They were cold and lost. An old goatherd saw them and welcomed them into his home to escape the bitter cold. “No traveler is a stranger in Afghanistan,” he said, quoting an old Pushtun saying. The old man, keeper of the village mosque, was the poorest man in a village that Russians had already nearly decimated. Many of his animals had been machine-gunned from the air. Despite his poverty, he fed his guests a feast of lamb, goat yogurt, warm bread, raisins and nuts, and cup after cup of strong green tea spiked with sugar. “Outside, the wind howled, the snows flew,” Schultheis writes. “But we sat in the warmest room in the world, surrounded by strangers who were suddenly our dearest friends.”
The charity extended to the writer of this story is the kind of charity that we are all now summoned to initiate. Despite religion, despite nationality, despite our own fears, we are called on to be generous to each other with whatever we have—our time, our expertise, our money, our forgiveness.
NS: The wide range of stories in the book prove that charity takes on so many different forms. Can you share your definition for our readers?
RWT: Many people think of charity as synonymous with writing a check. It's a financial obligation--or something we do to ease up on our taxes. At its root, charity is love. In fact, charity comes from the Latin word caritas, which means "love based on mutual esteem." This implies that charity requires a relationship between at least two people.
Kahlil Gibran offers some insight: “You give but little when you give of your possessions,” he says. “It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.” That’s what the stories in charity are about—people giving of themselves. For instance, one story in Charity is about a man who’s neighbor helps him find meaning after his mother’s death by teaching him how to garden. This is a gift of time, of expertise—something a check can’t accomplish. These kinds of personal interactions—these are the stories in Charity.
NS: Is there any particular story in the book which touched you the most when you first read it?
RWT: Every one of the stories in the book touched me when I first read them--that's why they made the final cut. But one of my personal favorites is from Manuel Kadish from Connecticut wrote a beautiful Hannukah story, "Festival of Lights." It takes place in Canada where he grew up. One December, when he was in elementary school, he met a fellow student who had no mittens. Turns out that the boy was an orphan. So young Manuel gives the boy his gloves, then lets his mother believe that he lost them. As days go by, Manuel meets more orphans and continues to give away his gloves until finally he’s forced to tell his parents what’s happening. They end up inviting all the orphans over to their home for the rest of the nights of Hanukkah, and his parents give each orphan his own pair of mittens.
NS: You talk about some of the fears that people often have when thinking about helping others. Why do you think that is? What are some of these fears?
RWT: Often, people are afraid of not having enough themselves--not enough time, not enough money, not enough energy. And if they don't have enough for them, how will they ever have enough to give to someone else? Additionally, I’ve discovered, what stops individuals from offering a hand is their own fear that they have nothing valuable to offer or say.
These fears can almost always be overcome. Inside each person, there is a lot of tenderness. This is the place from which charity springs. There are as many ways for that tenderness to manifest as there are people. Here are a few illustrations of charitable actions I came across while working on my book—examples of ways people can give to each other in strained times: Take flowers to a grieving friend. Help a motorist stranded beside the road. Reach out to an estranged relative. Visit someone who is dying. Plan to donate your organs. Volunteer to tutor a struggling student. Forgive someone who hurt you.
Small acts of charity can be as potent and as healing as large ones. Charity resonates, reminding us of what it means to be part of humankind.
NS: Is there anything else you would like to share with our readers?
RWT: You've heard the phrase that it is better to give than to receive? After editing this book, I don't believe that is true.
I talked earlier about how charity translates as "love based on mutual esteem." Maintaining esteem can be difficult when we introduce labels such as “giver” and “receiver.” The more that one person insists on his role as the giver, the more the other is forced to perceive herself as the receiver, and vice versa. When one person insists on being the giver, the risk offending the other person with their "generous-me-giving-to poor-you" attitude. The "giver" also misses out on any potential gifts the "receiver" has to offer. When the mutual esteem is compromised, this limits the potential for a giving-receiving exchange.
A great example of a giving-receiving exchange is Tarzie Hart’s story of the hobo who comes to her grandparents’ home for a meal. They put him to work fixing their fence, and then serve him a lunch on the white tablecloth they reserve for special guests. By giving the hobo a job, not a handout, they allow for his self-esteem to remain intact. Both parties in this exchange are givers, and both are receivers.
Neela: That is a nice thought to end with. Thank you so much for sharing with us.
RWT: Thank you, Neela, for your time.
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