Doris Twitchell Allen

After reading of the passing of Doris Twitchell Allen this weekend, I was moved to look and think about the ways that the ideas and dreams of that great lady changed my life. When Doris founded the Children’s International Summer Village (CISV) program I wonder if she knew the profound effect that it would have on its participants.

When I was 11, I sent with CISV to a tiny Brazilian town halfway between Sao Paulo and Rio de Janeiro. There, as children from 11 nations, we played together in the culture of children. Our nationalistic battles were fought with water balloons; our weapons toward conflicts were tears and a patient grown-up to sometimes translate. I came away with the belief that we had saved the world from conflicts; that when we would come of age to lead the world that we would fight no wars; that there were ways for everyone to share in the bounty of the global world, in resources and friendship.

I am older now, and in 1997 took four 15-year-olds from Maine to a CISV camp in Portugal. At camp these beautiful people walking the line between children and adults deeply and seriously discussed international political issues and created activities to drive their points home, using “games” of cooperation, resource sharing and political equality. Though the Israealis knew they would each eventually serve in an army (as do the Swedes) they still came to love their new friends from Lebanon.

We discussed the Bangor Clean Clothes Campaign, the rebuilding of Beirut and the drug laws of the Netherlands. We also learned that there is not enough time or patience to discuss some issues and were impressed at the wisdom our Middle Eastern friends had when refusing to discuss their conflicts -as a group because they feared that it would hurt their new friendships.

Of course, there was also at least one well-documented water fight, though national alliances broke down immediately and those of us foolish enough to plead neutrality were brutally ambushed near the shower house while wearing our clean, dry clothes.

Doris Allen’s CISV allowed a sharing experience which is unique and unrivaled. While most of the children at the camp had never met Doris Allen – we Mainers had the luxury of having Doris grace our meetings on special occasions – they asked us many questions about her. All who had met Doris at any CISV activity or convention held that memory close to them and shared them with open emotion. I have a picture of Doris and a group of Maine CISVers in the mid 1980s – she is smiling broadly and we are surrounding her, not knowing then how much she would mean to us later.

Life is complicated, but faith and belief are simple and incredible things. CISV teaches both the ideal and the real, giving those tortured by it tools to make a difference, perhaps not all at once or all alone, as I believed at 11, but together and slowly moving toward a common goal of peace. Each camp day begins with the CISV song followed by morning greetings in all the languages at the camp:

“Here in this village you may see children living happily … that our children so may grow in a world we did not know, sharing all they have to give, learning how to love and live. In our hands the future lies, seize the moment ‘ere it flies. Stamp the present with an act. Dare to make our dream a fact.”

Good morning, buenos dias, goedemoragen, bom dia, Doris – in whatever land you may now reside, you are missed in many nations here.

Monique Gibouleau lives in Bangor.