After a
few days of processing the experience, I woke up early this morning to share
what God showed me this weekend in Haiti.
As I've shared before, Barbie, one of the teachers here, is adopting
three children from an orphanage in another part of the city. The man in charge of this orphanage, Pastor
Rigeau, is very involved in many different ministries across the city of Port
Au Prince, including the area known as "La Saline", which is
considered the poorest part of the capital city. Barbie had visited La Saline before and had
raised money with the school she works at in Connecticut to sponsor a feeding in the small church in this
community. When she invited us to go it
sounded like a great opportunity to see more of Haitian culture and participate
in a different type of ministry.
After
spending some time with Barbie and her kids at the orphanage, we piled into
Pastor Rigeau's school bus and took the 15 minute drive from the orphanage to
La Saline. Driving through, the area
looked much like other communities, a mixture of crumbling cement buildings and
tent structures. We were dropped off
right in front of the church which was so packed with people already that it
took us a long while just to make it through the front doors. Once we made it in we saw crowds of children
seated on long wooden benches chatting loudly.
You could feel the excitement in the room as Pastor Rigeau greeted
them. After a quick word of introduction
and a prayer, we began handing out plates of rice and beans which had been
purchased and prepared ahead of time with the resources from Barbie's school. There were a few moments of
tension as some of the children were fighting over the food or trying to take
more than their share. Pastor Rigeau
told us that this is likely the only food that these children will eat all day,
which explained their desperation.
Standing
in that hot, noisy, and overcrowded room I began to feel more than a little
overwhelmed. How does one process this
kind of desperation? Then I spotted one
face in the crowd, a little boy about three years of age (in green at left) who was sitting on the
top of the bench waiting to be fed and very clearly falling asleep as he
waited. His older sister (in pink), maybe six
years old, was pinching and shouting at him to wake him up. I came over and
told her I would hold him and help him get some food. He willingly came to me and wrapped his arms
around my neck. I grabbed a plate of
food and slowly started feeding this sweet little guy. He woke right up when the first bite touched
his mouth, and even in the heat and noise of the room, it was a great moment of
connection. Pastor Rigeau came by to
check on us and told me to look at the little boy's hair. The orange discoloration is a sign of severe
malnutrition. I asked Pastor how often
these feedings occur, and he said whenever there is funding. He went on to share that he will come one
week and feed malnourished children and then the next week when he returns
they all won't be there anymore. With a
breaking heart I looked down again at this little guy who had fallen asleep in the crowd and
was now eagerly eating the whole plate of food. Would he be one that went missing from the
crowd the next time Pastor returned with food?
I don't know that I'll ever be able to articulate the sorrow we felt as
the feeding ended and the children slowly left the church. I gave the little boy a hug and said a prayer
as I watched his sister grab his arm and drag him out the door. If we weren't at a breaking point then, we would be when Pastor
took us further into La Saline to show us more of what poverty and desperation
does to a culture.
La Saline
comes from a French word meaning "salty soil." In this part of Haiti the soil is salty, and
the people use this to create food. A
mixture of earth, salt, and oil, these "mud cookies" are a staple in
the diet of many of the children we interacted with. Pastor Rigeau explained that these cookies
carry parasites and many times when he explains this to parents and pleads with
them not to feed them to their children, the only response he gets is that of desperation. The parents know their children will not
survive, that they are dying of starvation, and they don't want them to die
with empty bellies. These mud cookies
bring a sense of peace to parents who are unable to provide anything else for their starving
children.
Standing
out in the hot sun, watching these cookies being made, we were
brought to a deeper and more troubling sense of the desperation of this
place. I have tried and prayed since
leaving La Saline to find some deeper message, some great insight from the Lord
about this experience. Sorrow and
hopelessness come as I think about what I have seen. How can things like this
happen? When I live a life full of
excess and comfort, how can children be starving?
Again my heart cries out for justice. Then I am reminded that my
perspective is limited and tainted. The
only thing I know is that God sees and knows the inexpressible sorrow and
desperation felt by the people of La Saline.
He created each child and knows them by name. I pray for faith to trust Him to be perfectly just
and compassionate, to find a way and people to provide for these children and
give them a hope for tomorrow. Thank you
for your patience as you follow along with me on this journey. I apologize for the infrequency of recent
posts. As the electricity has been
restored, I will do my best to share the experiences of the last few days
here. I welcome your prayers and am so
thankful for your love and support! Love
in Christ, Jessie
