Change of View Change of Heart

As I walked down the jetway that connected our plane to Haiti I was filled with excitement. We were finally here. I was getting ready to step into my “what’s next”. The actual planning of this trip only took about 2 and 1/2 weeks, but in reality, it has been years in the making. I may not have known that God was taking me to this small island nation located in the middle of the Caribbean located somewhere between North and South America in February 2019, until February of 2019, but He knew. He has known all along that one day my next step would be planting seeds for change in the rich, fertile soil of the tropical island of Haiti.

We went through three security gates before we gathered our luggage and braved the throngs of airport workers, taxi drivers, porters and people watchers, all pulling at you and your luggage with requests to carry your bags, provide directions, give you a ride. I was glad that Matt, the gentleman leading our trip, had prepared me to “just hold tight to your bags, follow me and keep walking.” Several hands pushed and pulled at me during that long walk from the airport to our waiting transportation, but we made it without incident. These people in Haiti were nothing if not persistent.

As we got to the van we handed our bags over to our driver, a wonderful Pastor named Daniel, who, along with another man, loaded up the van. There were 25 bags and 11 people. It took almost 30 minutes for them to strap that mountain of suitcases to the top of the van, and every nook and cranny on the inside was stuffed as well with bodies and bags and backpacks, but we were so excited to be there that it didn’t matter how tightly we were crammed into that vehicle.

Leaving the airport my first impression of Haiti was of abundance, but not in a good way. Everywhere I looked there was rubble; piles of rock and bricks and debris from the earthquake that devastated this country more than a decade ago; debris and garbage, and people and animals. It was busy, and crowded and dusty and dirty and overwhelming. I knew that about Haiti, I had read about it, but I wasn’t quite prepared for this. It was haunting and fascinating at the same time. We arrived on a Sunday, so of course, people were coming and going from church, and in Haiti that means your Sunday best. You may not be able to afford your next meal, but you always dress for church. I saw an older woman in a pristine white dress with a white umbrella walking elegantly through a garbage heap. I saw pigs rooting through piles of trash next to a food vendor on a busy street. I saw naked children splashing in a river next to a woman dressed in a beautiful red silk dress washing clothes. I saw motorcycles with complete families perched on the back weaving in and out of traffic with apparently no fear of death. I saw a lot of things that first day and I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about them. We arrived late in the day so the sunset as we wound our way towards our hotel in Montrious, about an hour and a half away from the capital city of Port Au Prince. I was glad when the sun finally went down, because I wasn’t sure that I liked what I had seen so far of Haiti. “Lord, are you sure you want me here?”

The next morning we got up bright and early and began our week with a visit to the Wisconsin School, one of the many supported by Schools for Haiti. From the moment we stepped into that schoolyard my heart was changed. The children greeted us with special songs they had prepared; some in their language, some in ours, but all about the deep love they have for Jesus. They were beautiful, loving and uninhibited in the love that they have for their Savior, and for us, the Americans they credit with changing their lives. After the songs we shared the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches we had prepared for them that morning; their favorite treat, and we were rewarded with a verse of “Peanut Butter Jelly, Peanut Butter Jelly, I love it! I love it! I love it!” It was the sweetest song I think I have ever heard.

After that the children were released into the schoolyard and we were literally smothered in love. Little hands grabbed at every part of me wrestling other little hands for a finger, a lock of hair, a touch, a hug, anything. They wanted to braid my hair, rub my arms, wear my sunglasses, hold my phone. They laughed and smiled and jabbered at me in a language I didn’t understand, but longed too. I vowed in that moment to learn to communicate with these precious little ones. So that the next time I come to Haiti I can share with them in their language. What? Did I just say “the next time I come to Haiti?” This is just day one.

It is estimated that there are more than a million orphans on this small island country, and I believe it. Everywhere I looked I saw children in need, kids who were abandoned, or left alone through the death of a parent or two. Children whose mother’s can’t bear the fact that they can’t feed their own, but know someone who can.
Kids left on the doorstep of a willing neighbor who somehow became the go to person, a gatherer of children, and thus an orphanage was born. Orphans are everywhere in Haiti and this schoolyard was no different. These children were starving for a touch, a hug, a moment’s attention and I was a willing participant.

That afternoon we visited our first orphanage and my eyes were truly opened. Makenzia is the name of the beautiful young woman who cares for the more than 20 kids God has seen fit to entrust her with; children whose parents either cannot or will not care for them themselves. She has no electricity, no running water, no lights, no government assistance, and no paid employees, yet this godly woman provides a home, hot meals, clean clothes, and love to these kids someone else has thrown away. She has kind of a reputation in town as someone who will provide love to special needs kids, so she has 4 of them as well. Her newest customer, a 4 month old named Christiana Hannah, was left in a box in a garbage heap near the orphanage a few months back. Of course, Makenzia took her in, and that includes being responsible for not just another mouth to feed, but taking on a baby with health issues who needs expensive formula and health care. Makenzia, you had me at “Hello”, reason number 25 for me to return to Haiti and sow some seeds.

Matt had a full schedule for us that week that involved visiting many schools, orphanages, churches, and delivering love and meals, and peanut butter sandwiches, lots and lots of peanut butter sandwiches. I estimate that I held about 250 hands that week, and hugged, squeezed, sang to, rocked, laughed with, jumped rope with played soccer with and prepared crafts, and served peanut butter and jelly to countless others. I am in love with these sweet babies.

The culmination of our trip was visiting Madame Brunet and her husband, the couple who will be running the sewing school we are planting in Haiti. I was sure glad we brought some extra hands to help carry the 150 pounds of fabric and solar powered lights we brought as gifts, because we had to park the van by the street as no cars could travel up the rocky path they called a road to their home. As we started the quarter mile trek up the hill, children began appearing out of the little huts and houses we passed along the way. I felt kind of like the pied piper as more and more kids joined in, some from houses and huts, others just appearing out of the trees; all excited about the prospect of a sewing school in their neighborhood.

By the time we got to the top of the hill we had almost 50 kids following along. As we entered the Brunet home, which is a 2 room block hut of about 300 square feet we were greeted by the family and the neighborhood children with hugs. The children piled into the home and blessed us with songs that they had prepared. As you can imagine it was hot and crowded in the home, so after the greeting we went outside to talk business. When we stepped into the yard we were met by several other men and women from the neighborhood who decided to join in the festivities. You see, the plan for this sewing school was relatively new to me, but not to this faith-filled community of people who had been praying for a school for some time. They were filled with excitement to see God’s plan come to fruition, they wanted to meet the ones whom He sent to fulfill their vision.

We began to measure the yard and discuss the location of the building. We measured the lot, and spent a few minutes discussing construction options. Then with tear-filled eyes Mr. Brunet approached me and shared with me the story about how he and his wife had prayed for quite some time that God would send them funding to build a sewing school so that they could teach the young ladies in their community a skill that could provide them with a job, a job that would change their lives. He shared about how he was filled with faith; so much faith that over the years he began to gather cement blocks and sand for motor for the building of this school. You see the rubble that I saw as I left that airport Sunday afternoon, those piles of block and destruction represented something far different to Mr. Brunet. To him they represented hope, hope for a new beginning. Every day on his way home from work Mr. Brunet would walk past the abandoned piles of rubble and grab a block or two, or a bucket filled with sand and rocks for mortar and carry them up that steep hill to his home to the location that will be the Brunet sewing school. Now, with tears filling my eyes I looked around the piece of property that will be the home of this school we will help them build. The lot is filled with piles of block and sand and rocks, the rocks that will be the foundation for this school. I look again and I see children, lots and lots of children, I see the smiling face of the children and young women who will benefit from this school and my heart sings. “Thank you Lord for letting me be a small part of your plan.”

Our week is over far too soon, I wish for one more day, but I know that I will be back soon. We got up early to head to the airport as there were rumors of riots and road blocks. This government has not been good to its people and they have had enough. But maybe that’s part of God’s plan as well, you see their neglect has opened doors for us to be the hands and feet of Jesus to a country in need. “Here I am Lord, send me.”

As we get closer to the city we begin to see piles of rocks in the street, burning tires, the remains of burned vehicles. The rioters are just beginning to gather along the roadside and are not yet organized for the day. I find myself feeling a deep empathy for them. I think I should be filled with some kind of fear, after all they do pose some kind of threat. Oddly enough, that is not my first thought or feeling. As I look out the window, I think to myself, I will miss this place, the beautiful sunrise as it peaks up over the mountain and reflects off the water. I will miss the random farm animals rooting through piles of trash along the roadside, but mostly I will miss the people; I will miss having many little hands tug on my clothing and begging to be picked up; I will miss the sweet smile of Makenzia as she lovingly holds a baby that someone else has thrown away, and I will miss the faith-filled smile of Madame and Mr. Brunet as they share about a sewing school that I will help them build.

Haiti is a beautiful country filled with beautiful people and I am so thankful that my point of view has changed. There is a beautiful saying I once heard that goes like this, “If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.” I want to be a part of the change for Haiti. Please join me in making a difference.

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