Orphan Sunday 2011

An excerpt from Rebecca's Journal on our Orphan Sunday activities here:

Well into our first week of life here in Haiti, I am acutely aware that we remain outsiders looking in. Arriving for the long haul has a very different feel than the last time, when I was with a short term team. In some ways I still feel like a short termer. I’ve been in the world of chaos & inconveniences only a few days, am “rolling” with the schedule, have a cook preparing at least one hot meal a day for my family and still have clean clothes in my bag. The long term chatters at me: “beware”, “this may get old one day soon”, “you’re going to have to think about laundry in another few days”, and “you need to get on the stick to find appliances & a few pieces of furniture for your new house”, “btw…you are NOT going home any time soon”, “this is the end of the line for the foreseeable future…get used to it”.

There are some things about Haiti that I DON’T want to get “used to” though. Yesterday we drove up along the north coast to Archaie. Miles and miles through city and countryside and not one “decent neighborhood” according to American standards, did I see.  While I didn’t cognitively expect to see one, subconsciously I felt such thoughts hovering in the shadows. “Where are the ‘good’ neighborhoods? …the vacation homes? It’s gorgeous here! There must be a more upscale community somewhere…?”

The fact is there are not many places here that my American forged ideals would consider “nice”. Yet there are plenty of comfortable, simple, and love-filled homes woven throughout both city & countryside. The thought that ran through my mind as we drove past the, even by Haitian standards, miles of slums and impoverished neighborhoods was, I hope that I don’t get used to this! I hope that I don’t become a typical mulatto or live up to the reputation of a “blan” by getting to the point where I become insensitive to and begin to ignore the need and the poverty, just because there is so much. Rather, I want to remember and embrace the beauty of people that may live in ways that I’ve never dreamed of, but do so with love and hope & passion. 

Our trip to Archaie was to visit a little church that has been caring for 26 orphans since the earthquake last year. Pastor Emmanuel greeted us with a tender smile spilling forth from a heart of love for his Savior. He was a gentle, wise yet humble soul. We arrived to the children seated on benches in a canvas church that doubles as their school room, singing praise songs as their welcome to our small crowd. The laughter & joy in their eyes touched my innermost parts. These children had lost everything, yet they shared all that they had with us: their vivacious spirits!  As they finished their songs we followed the pastor to his home which had 2 average sized rooms in the front that had been converted to dorms for the children. He explained that his family: he, his wife & 4 children lived in the remainder, a couple of rooms in the back. Besides the concrete block home, there was a leaning, rough wood and tin shed for cooking and the church/schoolhouse made of blue tarp material. Pastor explained that during the day it was usually too hot to do school under the tent so the kids would work under nearby shade trees where the air moved better instead. I noted a couple of brown wooden “chalk boards” with their teacher’s colorful etching on one side.

According to Pastor Emmanuel all of these children were orphaned due to the earthquake. All but 4 had lost both mother and father. The remaining have only their fathers alive. He stated that many of the older ones he had found wandering the streets with no one to care for them, so he invited them in. The youngest, “John” at 18 months must have been born in the midst of the aftermath. He states that when the baby’s mother died some relatives brought him there to be cared for. John clings to pastor’s trousers like a mother’s skirts – where he feels safe, cared for and secure! I saw that and the thin, yet thriving children as a good sign that they were in God’s hands through this gracious man.

When we asked Pastor Emmanuel if we could pray for him he quickly assented and immediately descended to his knees on the dusty concrete in his white slacks. We laid our hands on him and Ted prayed over his ministry, thanking God for his pure heart and asking for continued provision for him, his family and the children that had come into his care. We shared that out of our group there were 4 that were once orphans (Ted, the twins & Joseph the guest house caretaker) and yet He has given each of them a future and a hope and that it was clear that he was a part of God’s provision of that for these children as well. We committed to continuing in prayer for them all.

As we had approached this orphanage through winding deeply trenched roads there was a small candy stand being run by neighborhood children. With a quick thought Ted, Tynan and my brother Bob hopped out & went back for some treats to share. Now the crowd chortled & giggled with “lollies” in their mouths and wrappers littering the ground. We played and visited, worked on learning everyone’s names, and carried the littler ones around for the short hour and a half that we were there. Stevenson one of the smaller ones has a smile that lights up the world when he shines it on you. But I think it grew even brighter with the stick of his lolly hanging out!

We departed with a short lesson in how our family waves goodbye to those we love...we wave the one handed ASL sign for “I Love You” as we go. So we departed waving just so, while the children worked their hands into the same sign and joyfully waved them at us in return. The chorus of “bon jou’s” echoed in my mind as we turned toward home.

I was reminded again at that moment that selling our home, everything in it, leaving family and friends, entering a culture worlds different than my own, learning a new language, taking cold 2 minute showers, and foregoing the luxury of reliable electricity, dishwashers, air conditioning, and just plain “quiet” was all worthwhile. All hardship was simply erased with the single “lollipop smile” of an orphan.