Eyes

The happiness in Haiti is contagious.  Some of the moments these last days have absolutely filled me with joy.  But if Haiti were a problem-free country, we wouldn’t even be here (now that’s a sad thought in itself).  There is also plenty of sadness, and our Reiser Relief team witnessed some of it today. 

Our morning visit was to Carfour at a home for the sick and dying.   Although the women and young girls were happy to see us, there was a definite undertone of sadness during our visit wondering what the future was for each of these individuals.

Our afternoon visit was to General Hospital in Port au Prince.  I had never been there and didn’t know what to expect.  Far unlike any hospital I had ever seen in the States, it was rows of small buildings with long narrow rooms filled with cribs and beds for babies and children.  Patients must provide their own food and many of the other items that are routinely provided by the hospitals in the United States.   Small children are left to fend for themselves unless they are lucky enough to have family members to come visit them and care for their basic needs.  Some of the children at the hospital had been abandoned and left to lie unattended in cribs in the most pathetic conditions.  We brought diapers, blankets, formula, bottles and more to pass out to parents and patients.  Although some of the parents sat without moving next to their baby’s cribs silently watching us with sad eyes, there was a sense of desperation bordering on mob mentality from many of the other parents as they surrounded us begging for anything we had to offer.  I found it difficult to look into their eyes. 

I was struck by the completely vulnerable and desperate situations that so many of the Haitians live in.  In their normal everyday lives, they have to worry about whether they will have food for their families next meal, enough water to do their cooking and wash their clothes, charcoal for their cooking fires, a way to keep their tarp roofs from leaking when it rains, and if they will be able to afford to continue sending their children to school.   But beyond wondering how they will support their families on a daily basis, many of them won’t have the means to care for their sick or disabled children or even to raise them to adulthood.

 

As we were driving back to our guesthouse, I was pondering over the hopeless desperation I had seen in the eyes of many of the Haitians we visited, and I was struck by the huge burdens they are forced to live with day in and day out.   It would seem that being able to find joy and peace in their lives would be nearly impossible.

When we were nearly to our destination, a frail elderly man rode past our vehicle on an old bike wearing a black t-shirt.  Suddenly, the answer to my inner turmoil was right there in front of me.  On the back of his shirt it said,  “With God, all things are possible.” 

Blessings,

Ann