November 25, 2011
Cornbread dressing is my favorite Thanksgiving side dish.
LuLu’s Noodles ‘n Cheese and some Cajun fried turkey are tolerable
accompaniments as well. Tack on about eight other heaping, steaming vats of food
and that is the beginning of my family’s typical November 24th feast.
I admit that I looked at my plate a little differently this
year.
Three days ago, a smiley child named Samuel was propped on my
hip, hand outstretched and giggling. One of his sisters caught the cue and
returned to his side with a gift. He reached in her palm to grab a perfectly
round and vibrantly red piece of fruit that she had picked from the nearby tree.
It looked like a cherry, but it was so ripe that I could smell how sour it was.
Samuel brought the fruit to his mouth and chomped down in an effort to break it
in half. He semi-succeeded as skin and juice dribbled down his chin.
In the midst of his satisfaction, the tiny fruit slipped from
his fingers into the dirt. I was relieved because, surely, he did not like it
that much. But he immediately began squirming and reaching toward the
ground. The look in his eyes determined that if he did get hold of that fruit
again, he would devour it, dirt and all.
Samuel, also known as “Moses,” became a part of a new family
about six months ago. Pastor Silar Deluc and his wife Gina, caretakers of the
OROEDH orphanage in Port au Prince, Haiti, took him in after he was found
abandoned, floating in a basket in a river. Samuel has 59 brothers and sisters
sharing their small 25 x 50 living space, seeming to barely survive each
day.
The same hands that held that little child are now holding this
overflowing plate of delicious food as I stand in a clean house clothed in
comfort that I have known my whole life, and I struggle to know how to respond
to that imbalance.
Five days before, on November 19, 2011, I began my second
journey to Haiti, the first taking place in July of the same year (read about it
here). The Child in Hand team for this
medically focused trip comprised of CiH Director Richard Garner and his wife Heidi
Silvey Garner, Dr. Greg and Amalia Ciottone, Dr. Srihari Cattamanchi, Dr.
Michael Bouton, Dr. Majed Aljohani, Patricia Johnson, Alain Denis, Ronald Watson, Willie Noel, and our
security leader Brett Mills, and myself.
From the airport, we piled in our two vehicles, and then Rich
“threading the needle” Garner maneuvered the Haitian traffic insanity to the
city of Grand Goave, about two hours from Port au Prince. On this final leg of
our long travel day, every one was so kind to allow me, the non-doctor rookie,
to claim the front backseat of the van, enabling my oversized and injured right
leg to stretch out onto the center console.
Thus began the many honors I was to experience on this trip.
Allow me to share a glimpse of some of the others…
Stepping out of the van, some of
the YouTube videos and articles I had seen came to life, as I was honored to
meet Len Gengel, the father and founder of
Be Like Brit. The wounds of his daughter’s death in the 2010 earthquake were
still raw and evident, but the artistry and heart transferred into her
tribute--a "B" shaped two-story orphanage—was inspiring. Not only did we get to
walk the grounds of this coming shelter, but I had the privilege of snapping a
photo of our dear Amalia Ciottone standing in what will be the Child in Hand
Medical Clinic, located inside the orphanage and run by the Ciottones.
Another joy found me at the church
service led by our Grand Goave hosts, Lex and Renee Edme of
Mission of Hope International. I had been greatly
anticipating the opportunity to witness how a people immediately dealing with
trauma and devastation might worship and praise the Almighty God. How much more
reverent or grateful would they be, having to depend on God for daily
survival, for basics, for hope?
When we arrived at the open-air
structure that enclosed a gathering of beautifully dressed, singing people, my
eyes were drawn to the two small boys holding hands and spinning in the aisle.
The smile in my heart leapt onto my face, and the two boys looked at me and each
reached out a hand. In surprise, I leaned down to take their hands, and they
swept me into a dance unlike any I have had before.
Moments later, there was weeping in that same
aisle. A missionary couple of the
Hands and Feet orphanage
in Jacmel professed his gratitude for God’s protection through tears. The night
before, his orphanage was attacked by seven gunmen and his wife held at
gunpoint—which is, unfortunately, an increasingly common occurrence against
white missionaries in the area. The same night of our arrival, our faithful
guide Willie used our van to help transport children to a safe location on the
MOHI grounds. How grateful I am that, even in a small way, Child in Hand was
able to meet these kind hearts and assist in their rescue.
One of the main purposes of our
trip, however, was that our incredible team of doctors, led by Dr. Greg Ciottone,
would begin medical and nutritional assessments of children, as well as do some
educational training for over 50 local caregivers. I was humbled by my inability
to speak their medical language, but I was very honored that upon our second
visit in two days to the ORAEDH orphanage in PaP, Child in Hand was able to give
an answer and a treatment plan to children whose conditions had gone untouched
for months—like for the paralyzing, emotionless symptoms of “Little Colorado,”
who was the first orphan I ever held this past July, the doctors communicated a
plan to treat the parasite that should be his companion no more.
Something I did not experience on
my first trip to Haiti four months ago was the Haitian children’s fascination
with my hair. Before, “the mop,” as I call it, had been crowded up under a hat,
but this time it was down and expanding in all of its Muffassa-like glory (Lion King, anyone?). As
soon as I would sit down in one of the undersized chairs strewn about the yard,
tiny hands began to dig and pull on my curly locks as if checking for ticks or
extension ties. As silly as their curiosity felt to my scalp, I was honored by
their simple fascination.
The greatest honor for me, however, was dispersed
throughout our four day journey, finding its culmination on our final evening
together on November 21. My goal for this trip was to observe, listen, and
gather fresh insight into the goals and mission of our organization, and every
member of our team contributed to the realization of that goal. I was honored to
receive criticism, questions, and new observation on behalf of Child in Hand,
especially from the three visiting doctors who had never worked with us before.
I came away from the trip spurred on to streamline our focus. We must answer
important questions in order to maximize Child in Hand’s impact in 2012—not
prioritizing width of impact, but depth.
And that brings me back to little Samuel in my arms, reaching
towards the ground for his beloved, sour cherry now covered in a layer of dirt.
The dirt that did not bother him at all. He just kept reaching, desiring that cherry as if
knowing something I did not.
What if Child in Hand was a bit like that cherry—a
little ripe and a little dirty.
And what if, thanks to another year of experience and error and progress, we now know the truth that Samuel knew all along.
It is possible that Samuel still wanted that cherry because he knew the value of food and what it was to be without it. To him, that cherry was not lost or
inedible. No, no--it was just more well-seasoned.
