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| My amazing team in the 12Stone parking lot at 3:30 AM - ready for departure! |
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| All 21 of our suitcases! THANK YOU for all your donations!!!! |
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| trash on the side of the road |
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| crowded streets |
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| beautiful children |
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| stunning mountains |
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| me (on the roof of our hotel) with a tent village in the background |
I can tell you it is a truly beautiful country. Beautiful people. Beautiful landscape. Every time I see mountains I fall deeper in love with our Creator. These mountains proved no different. We drove through breathtaking scenery on our way from the capital city of Port au Prince to where we would spend the week in Jacmel. All ten of us and all 21 of our suitcases made it safely to Jacmel. It all went so smoothly we could hardly believe it! We concluded God's favor was on us and tucked that encouragement away as we started the week.
There are stories upon stories to tell, but for now I'll share with you three of my most heart-capturing moments. The first one was on Monday during the clinic we held in the mountain village of Terra Rouge. A shy young woman carrying a tiny bundle slipped onto the rickety wooden chair in front of me and one of the Haitian doctors. She moved the blanket in her arms to reveal a four-day-old sleeping little girl, her daughter who couldn't have been more than 5 and a half pounds. She was a precious baby, but she had an eye infection. Through the help of interpreters we discovered that some unclean water had accidentally splashed into the baby's eye at birth. The eye was swollen and matted shut. We gave the baby what meds we could. I had the privilege of holding her while the mother learned how to open the medicine bottle. Can you imagine? She was a young new mom. Her baby was sick. She had no other alternatives, so she swaddled up her newborn and made the long trek to the clinic. She was determined to give her baby a fighting chance. She had the sweetest smile. And she was so grateful. It broke my heart to see her walk away. How far did she have to walk to get back to her hut? Would her baby's infection cause blindness? Would she even live? What pain was the mother feeling after delivering a baby a mere four days earlier? Her determination and strength was beyond inspiring. I will never forget the look on her face as she thanked us before walking away.
The second moment involves a patient on the opposite end of the age spectrum. A few days later we were doing another clinic in a different area. Several elderly women came through - some for glasses, others for stomach issues, others for rashes or wounds that aren't healing properly. But one woman stuck out to me. Like most of the people coming through the clinic, they willingly wait hours to get to the doctors. While they waited in line, our team got to love on them - blowing bubbles, playing games, massaging lotion into overworked hands. This particular woman had her nails painted in the most lively bright shade of red you can imagine. She carefully eased herself down on the bench as I prepared to take her blood pressure. I noticed her red nails right away. I knelt down to hold her palms in my hand, showing her I was admiring her beautiful hands. I "ooohed" and smiled over them and when I looked up into her face, the look of kindness in her eyes was paralyzing. It was like this 70 or 80 something-year-old woman had stepped back to her childhood, like a child showing off her new dress. Her clear eyes shone with gratitude and the multitude of wrinkles on her face deepened as her mouth curved into a big grin. I thought to myself, I'm looking into the face of Jesus. And it had never looked more lovely.
The last story involves several children at a school we visited to do VBS. We spent the morning in a classroom of 5- and 6-year-olds. Precious little children in their pale blue uniforms. They were more attentive than I've ever seen kids that age, hanging on every word as we shared with them the story of David and Goliath. We laughed as the story was acted out, giving several kids the opportunity to fall to the ground as Goliath did. We colored pictures with them, swapping crayons and oohing and aahing over their colorful creations. We shared with them the gospel and prayed over them, each one bowing his or her head as the words were spoken. After the class was dismissed and we'd visited with other children, I saw these kids out in the quad area outside. I went over and started interacting with them, attempting to play games through our lack of verbal communication. They smiled and giggled and fought over who would get to hold my hand next. We started twirling each other and dancing even though there was no music. I asked them to sing for me and the next thing I knew I was part of a circle of 8 or so children who are all singing in French. We're holding hands and walking/running in the circle, like we would if we were playing Ring Around the Rosie. I didn't know what the words meant, but it melted my heart to hear their voices singing in unison and see their eyes looking to me for affirmation. It has never been more fun to share laughter than with those eager little ones.
