Little Moments

Vaccination Campaign, round 3. That's Dani, my roommate and future nurse!

Francheese, resting peacefully while awaiting baptism

Mama with her proud godparents! Her godfather is Kenson Kaas, Director of the Angels of Light program

Post-baptism snack

Goofy girls Wideline, Metecha, Celianne and Metechaya

Words have not come easily as of late – the excitement of the first several months has morphed into the routine of each day, the intensity of this world often overwhelming with its constant battles to find hope and facilitate progress. I find it more difficult to relate my thoughts and emotions. The sheer volume and magnitude of differences between this life and the life of the Western world present themselves in conversations with short-term volunteers, in brief visits with friends on a recent trip back home, in the plethora of modern conveniences available as soon as the plane lands in Miami, in the headlines which pop up on our computer screens each morning, in the dust-filled chaos that is my walk to work.

In the midst of the sobering moments like these, I relish in the little moments and small victories which make each day here such a wholesome experience. Some may have been mentioned in previous posts, but I find them worth mentioning again. They are priceless.

• Stevenson making the sign of the cross before attempting to write his name. Sitting with him as he talks through and studiously practices writing his numbers, all the way through 100:

“I can’t do it!”

“Don’t tell me you can’t do it, Stevenson. You CAN do it! You know!”

“Wait! I can do it!” ….“Look, Brigitte! I did it!”

• Being complimented on my Creole.

• Sharing a long, side-splitting laugh with my nurses.

• The gaggle of children standing in the doorway of the clinic each afternoon.

• Ti Erline reaching up for me, playing with my camera as she sits on my lap. She taps me lightly on the arm as she scrolls through the pictures, wanting me to see each one.

• Completing vaccinations for all 184 of the FWAL kids, fully immunizing them against Hepatitis B, Meningitis, Measles, Mumps, Rubella, Tetanus, Diptheria, Pertussis, and Polio.

• Finding Starbucks Java Chip Frappucino ice cream at the supermarket.

• The chorus of little voices chanting, “Brigitte! Brigitte!” as the bus pulls into the driveway of Ste. Anne.

• Watching newly-baptized Erline eat a slice of watermelon.

• Sitting with Mama as she starts to make sense of her diabetic symptoms.

• My daily 5-second check-in with Wangly: "Brigitte, are you good?" "Yes, Wangly, I'm good. Are you good?" "Yup! Bye!"

• Passing by the bus to Ste. Anne as the kindergartners are rounded up at midday, high-fiving them as they yell my name and pass their hands out the window.

• “Brigitte, I have a headache.”

“You need to drink a glass of water – many glasses of water. Your body needs water. It is very hot out here!”

“I can’t drink water. Water makes you fat!” 

• Reading “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day” in Creole, trying to explain to the kids that the picture doesn’t actually show the gum in Alexander’s hair. Stevenson begging me to re-read it to him until he can memorize the whole story.

• Drilling Miss Boisrond in her English exercises, helping her pronounce the parts of the body.

• Little hands running through my hair and stroking my arms, tracing the veins in my hands.

• Stanley checking on me after a bee sting: “Brigitte, does your back still hurt?” “No, thank you so much for asking! My back is all better.” “Oh good.” (Huge smile follows).

• Joking with the kids after my return from a trip: Me: “Did you miss me, or did you miss the candy I bring?” Mike, 6 years old, after a brief pause: “Umm, we missed you both!”

• Getting the phone call that the years’ supply of medications we have been awaiting since January has finally arrived!

• A cold shower at the end of a long, sweaty day.

•  The restaurant actually having my first choice on their menu available. (For the first several months I was here, it was a running joke – I would go through two or three rounds before my order could be completed!)

• The schoolchildren who enthusiastically call my name as we pass on the street, and the giggle that passes through their lips as I respond.

• Gouda cheese quesadillas and peanut M & M’s.

• A week in Mexico, refreshing my Spanish, remembering my first love of Latin American culture and finding solidarity with my compatriots from the other NPH homes.

• A thank-you note from Islandy, written painstakingly in French cursive.

• Staring at the newly-donated piano, trying to remember any of the songs etched into my head by years of lessons, as the boys beg me to play them something. (Sorry, mom! I could not remember how that Bach started ... I could remember the rest, just not the beginning!)

• Being asked by Mama to be her godmother, finding out that I am also the godmother for another precious FWAL kiddo, Valson. Sitting on the floor during the baptism service while Valson wraps his arms around my neck and smiles hugely at me.

• Haitian 7Up