There never
seems to be a day in Haiti that doesn’t include at least one moment that leaves
me devastated or one moment that amazes me.
Today we had a whirlwind tour of some of the many ministries the Sisters
of Companions of Jesus (a Haitian order of nuns) are involved in around
Leogane, Haiti. Before the day had
barely begun, I had experienced of one each of those overwhelming moments.
Early in the
day, after touring a beautiful large sustainable farm run by the Sisters, we
visited one of their many beautiful schools, Guardian Angels, at which over 250
children are educated. In each classroom
we walked into, we were greeted by a roomful of smiling children in matching
school uniforms who stood up and broke into song when Joyce, Jimmy, Father
Talbot, and I walked into the room. In
one classroom, a small girl wasn’t wearing her school uniform, but rather, was
wearing a pretty dress. We inquired and
discovered it was her birthday that day, so she was able to wear something
other than her usual uniform. Sister
Alta promptly reached into her pocket and handed the little girl a dollar
bill. The little girl accepted with
shining, excited eyes. A couple classrooms
later, after the children had finished singing us their welcome song, Joyce
asked about two girls in the room who were wearing black and white uniforms
versus the school’s signature blue and white ones, wondering if they were
celebrating birthdays today also. Sister
Alta explained to us that students who have lost a family member wore black
uniforms to school for one year in order for everyone to remember the deceased
family member.
Hearing the
significance of the black uniforms broke my heart—partly because I wondered if
it was difficult for those children to have the constant reminder, but more so because
I was so saddened to think that TWO children in one classroom had lost a family
member that year. I had to turn away
from the class for a minute to regain my composure, and then I felt the need to
go hug each of them and tell them how sorry I was even though they had no idea
what I was saying. A couple classrooms
later, there was another student in a black uniform, and again, it broke my
heart to witness it. I can’t help but
wonder what devastating things many of the beautiful kids in Haiti have to face
at an early age and how difficult it must be for them.
Later, after
we’d left the school and were on to our next stop for the day, Sister Alta
explained to us that, because today was the Feast day of the Ascension, all the
schools in Leogane were closed for the holiday.
So of course we asked why all the classrooms at Guardian Angel School had
been full. Sister Alta simply said
they’d asked the students to come to school in spite of the holiday since WE
were going to be visiting. Now, there’s
no doubt the children were all grumbling behind our backs about having to do
that, but I was so incredibly touched that they respected their teachers and
Sister Alta enough to show up for school in their uniforms, braids, ribbons,
and barrettes in the girl’s hair, and with happy and expectant smiles on a
school holiday!
Thank God
for the children we visited today. They
are just another of the many examples of the resiliency and faithfulness of the
Haitian people. Thank God for Haiti.
Ann
2. Witnessing Ann shrewdly bargaining with 10 goudes for a bag of plantain chips to a vendor jogging alongside our car window
5. Going on a hike with two Haitian nuns, an Evangelical Haitian American Pastor, a Catholic priest, an 8th grade Haitian boy, a missionary from the Jersey shore and my sister. I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.
6. Visiting a fully operational rum factory in remote Jeremie, Haiti, with homemade barrels, hand carved wood pipes, and a diminutive proprietor who served me a sample in a quickly emptied water bottle. Sharing said rum with Haitian nuns.
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