Hello, dear friends. I cannot excuse my delinquency in blogging
by saying I had the best of intentions, can I? Allow me to only explain that
there are times when there is so much to say that it is hard to say anything at
all. The previous sentence sums up the last two months of my life.
While home over the Christmas break, I realized that
financial constraints will not allow me to continue to volunteer in Haiti after
the end of this month. The tremendous generosity of family and friends,
multiplied by my attempts to use each dollar to the absolute maximum possible,
has been the most amazing gift, and has extended my service here beyond the original
year that I agreed to when I signed on the dotted line. The knowledge of your
support beyond that, the prayers and thoughts and good wishes and encouraging
comments, quotes and compliments have sustained me more than you can imagine.
This entire experience has been a series of miraculous, heart-wrenching,
challenging, priceless, providential, and precious moments and lessons. My
heart has grown deeper than I knew a heart could, and the extraordinary
citizens of this nation have taught me the importance of the present moment,
the determination to rise again no matter how many times we may fall or be
forced down by the weight of life, and that there is so much joy in the
simplicity of living with merely the possessions of faith, hope and love.
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| Celebrating at the inauguration of the Angels of Light Preschool and Kindergarten! |
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| Kevin, the goof. Yes, that is a pair of (clean!) underwear on his head. |
The last several weeks have been spent sorting through and
dividing up the massive number of projects that were very conveniently stored
in my head … and I am realizing that I had a whole lot of ideas in progress in
there! Now comes the challenging task of imparting the responsibility for these
tasks to my Haitian counterparts and hoping that I have empowered them to
believe they are adequate. I have no doubt that they are – but do they know and
believe the same? We spent a wonderful day together on a field trip, away from
the clinic, touring the home in Kenscoff and talking through the numerous goals,
ideas and duties they have as nurses responsible for the health of so many
little ones (and not-so-little ones!) It is a bittersweet departure for me – my
heart calls me home, but at the same time, it wants to remain here. I hope I
have worked myself out of a job, and I have been greatly impressed at the
initiative shown by these three strong women in the last several months, as my
time in the clinic has been less and less. I have been grateful for the chance
to test their willingness to step up and assert themselves, a hard thing to do
in this culture, and at the positive results they have demonstrated to me! It
is exciting to hear that they have taken on a project that I have mentioned in
passing, and that they come up with a system that will work for the needs they
see. There is hope in Haiti!!
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| There is nothing better than a belly-laugh! |
I am blown away by the courage of all the kids I have been
privileged to meet and serve. The bravest of the brave cancer patients charm me
with their smiles and absolute courage in the face of grave disease. One of my
friends said to me, “Providing end of life care in a developing country is
caring for the dying with your arms tied behind your back.” This perfectly
described my feelings working in the Mango room. The motivation and the
compassion and the understanding are there, on the part of the doctors and several
of the nurses. The respect, resources, medications and consistency which they
need in order to fulfill their duties, are not always present. But the care of
the dying is a powerful and beautiful thing. There were, sadly, numerous
goodbyes in recent weeks. Marken, Natalie, Jonathan, Judith. These little ones
fought with all they had, little Natalie hanging on for many days after we all
thought her body was finished. I was honored to stay with her on the evenings I
was there, talking with her mother and answering questions, commending her
faith and simply being with her in her loneliness and fear. The veil between
the temporary and the eternal is so thin that the sacredness of the moment is
palpable. I had a very hard time leaving that last Friday evening, only doing
so because night was falling and it is not safe for us women to walk home alone
after dark. The following Monday morning, her beautiful grieving mother waited
outside the ward until my arrival to tell me that her daughter had gone to “God’s
house,” as we were calling it together. She embraced me and thanked me for
being honest with her and for staying after the doctors left. Such small
gestures, so much impact. We cried together, and I knew at that moment that if
that had been the only reason I was brought down here, that would be enough.
And yet the reasons I was brought here are endless, and I have been continually
amazed at the goodness and the grace and the strength and the faith of the
people I have been blessed to befriend this last nineteen months. I am humbled
countless times a day by their courage, their fortitude, their grit, their
expectant hope, their acceptance, their surrender.
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| Stanley, my daily dose of sunshine and a true servant of others. He loves to help! |
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| The beach at Jacmel |
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| Street in Jacmel |
I cannot begin to list the people and things I will miss
about this country. The list would take up pages beyond pages. But beyond all
of the items I could even express, the faces of the children will be the
hardest not to see each day. Their eyes and smiles hold unexplainable joy, and
their whole beings dance with expectation and determination. I have laughed at
their one-liners, cried at their pain, held their hands, experienced their
whole-body hugs, just sat with them while they fought over who got to braid my
hair this time around, listened to their stories, watched them run toward the
future, witnessed their growth in confidence and strength, disciplined them
with love, cherished their songs, been amazed at their creativity, and been
stunned at their understanding and bravery. They have sustained me on many a
difficult day, and even just a moment with any of them has brightened even the
darkest moment. They define joy. They laugh in the face of challenge, and they
stand in opposition to defeat. They will remain in my heart. Every single one
of them.
