Those of us who are strong and able in the faith need to step in and lend a hand to those who falter, and not just do what is convenient for us. Strength is for service, not status.Each one of us needs to look after the good of the people around us, asking ourselves, How can I help? Romans 15:1&2 (The Message version)

I realize a blog post is long overdue. I still have stories to share, things to say, people to introduce you to. But as always, life back home is busy and it is easy to fall back into the routine of things. Never a day that I have not thought of Haiti, and the work that is being done. Never a day where a part of me feels like it belongs there, working along side the staff and volunteers together in one accord. 

These past few months the cholera numbers spiked again. It was painful for me not to jump on a plane and go about treating people, saving lives, ministering to souls. But I knew it was not my time. True, I had to remind myself that there are other people just as capable, if not more so, of treating cholera, rocking babies and spreading joy to those who need it most. It was a struggle… to say the least.

3 out of 4 of my trips I had the  privilege  to work alongside my favourite people in Haiti – Justin and Roseann. They arrived around the same time I did for my second trip. Justin was new in the role of clinical coordinator and Roseann would be taking on the role of journalist. Both quickly took on the role of friend. 

I have watched these two from afar, (in a non creepy way) and admired the relationship they have with God, and with each other. Being surrounded by failed marriages, seeing them gave me hope. And reminded me that I will never settles for less than what is intended for my life. 

I admire their dedication to the mission set out before them. All the while being so real and down to earth. Never pretentious. Never condescending. Just real love.

Please read about their love in action from Roseann’s blog: Moments on the Journey  – The July 15 post entitled Handiworkings gives an idea of where their hearts have been, and I am sure will continue to be for some time to come.

Today, after one year of service, they are heading home. I know this is bittersweet on so many levels. For the staff on the field who have grown to love them… it is hard to see them leave. For the family and friends at home who have missed them… they are joyous at their return. And for R & J… even as I type this I have tears streaming down my face knowing you have been through so much this year, so much more than even I could pretend to understand. But your grace and courage has been a testament to everyone in your paths. I know you leave Haiti with your own lives changed. And so many lives are changed because you were there. Mine included.

 

I truly pray you are filled with peace as you continue through the moments on your journey. 

 

One Love, ♥

 

I have to admit, even after all these years and all the foolish things I have seen on it, I still like to watch Greys Anatomy. I guess it is a guilty pleasure. 

However, I have one huge beef with this show and that is basically they make it seem like nurses have no role in the hospital… except that redhead who gave George syphilis (I still miss George!)

So for those of you that watch Greys, or any other medical drama where it seems like the only people in the entire hospital who do anything are the residents and consultants I would like to clear up a few misconceptions:

1. Bloodwork.

I have never in my career seen a doctor order bloodwork, go in and draw the bloodwork, carry said bloodwork to the lab and wait for the results. Here is how is usually goes down:

Dr orders bloodwork.

Nurses draws blood.

Nurse sends blood to lab.

Nurse looks up lab results.

Nurse calls Dr with lab results. (and sometimes gently suggests appropriate treatment based on said results)

Furthermore, if a nurse is unable to get blood from a patient the Dr will be the last resort to finding the vein… and that is only because they will cheat and use an ultra sound machine!

2. Post-Operative Patients

Well there have been no shortage of post-op patients on this show, including half of the main cast who miraculously recovered in record time. Here is how post-op situations usually goes down:

Many nurses get room ready for patient.

Patient arrives, nurses gather in room to settle patient, including cleaning up all blood and other messes so that the family is not even more traumatized than they already are.

Nurse performs head to toe assessment, repeatedly. This includes monitoring cardiac system (includes heart rate, blood pressure, temperature, lab results), respiratory system (lung sounds, resp rates, suctioning), neurological system (including coma scale, orientation to person place and time, motor functioning), GI system (including insertion of feeding tubes, drainage tubes, poop collection tubes), and GU system (urinary output, kidney function). All the while taking care of many intravenous medications that are hanging. This is done hourly.

Patient wakes up, is confused and combative – a common occurrence for post-op patients. 

Nurse gets grabbed by patient, ends up with bruise on wrist/arm/wherever patient managed to hit/grab/slap…

Nurse continues to assess patient despite confusion and aggression while patient is attempting to pull out breathing tube, central lines, catheters, dressings…

Nurse gives sedation to patient, for patient safety and continues to assess patient.

Nurse stays at bedside 24/7, monitoring patient, speaking with family members who can be approachable, loving, hostile, weepy, angry, hysterical, threatening,

3. CT Scan/MRI

This might be one of my favourites… I love love love that the interns on this show all singlehandedly take their patient for a scan and then perform and interpret said scan. A more accurate picture:

Dr. orders CT. 

Nurse enters request for CT in computer.

Nurse arranges with CT staff a time for patient to have CT.

Nurse prepares for CT – hooking patient up to portable monitor, portable ventilator (an RT does this), portable IV poles including the 5 life sustaining medications the patient is on.

Nurse, along with RT and support worker, take patient for CT. 

Nurse gets patient settled onto CT scanner board.

Nurse stays while patient receives CT.

Nurse takes patient back to room and spends 1/2 hour untangling the lines of all the IVs and tubes

Nurse calls Dr and let them know CT is complete.

4. Bedside care

I seriously wonder where the nurses are when Meredith/Miranda/Christina (well maybe not Christina) are having heart-to-heart talks with the patient. Where are the nurses when they are sitting at their bedside 24/7 while the patient weeps into their arms and opens up to them their life secrets?

I feel pretty confident that even my resident friends can agree that their bedside care, even though professional and kind, pales in comparison to that of a nurse.

As nurses we are educators, social workers, family mediators, grief counsellors. We are comedians and chaplains. We comfort the families of the sick and the dying. We rejoice with the patient who is well enough to be discharged. We pull up a chair and listen intently to the old man who wants to talk about his glory days – even when the charting needs to be done. We lovingly wash the hair of the woman who is used to having hers done every week. We think of creative and inventive ways to check a child’s tonsils. We are patient advocates. We are family advocates. 

We are all that and so much more.

So yeah, I will continue to watch Greys Anatomy, and perhaps you will too. But the next time you see a doctor in high heels start doing chest compressions you better believe that if it was happening in real life it would be a nurse… in comfortable runners.

Happy Nursing week to my nurse family. I am honoured to work among you.

One Love, ♥

So last year I had the honour of being in Haiti for mothers day. It was my first ever Mothers Day away from my children, but being able to teach them about selflessness made the absence worth it. I also missed spending the day with my own Mama but was able to surprise the family with a video skype call! (Don’t worry SP, I am sure this is not why your internet crashed…)

Three months later I was back in Haiti and this time missed my mom’s birthday. Not a great track record.

This year, although I will be home in Ontario, I will once again not be spending the day with my kidlets or my mama… duty calls and I will be ‘mothering’ the sick for 12 hours. I could begrudge it but I am thankful for the opportunity to show love in the same manner that it has so freely been bestowed upon me.

Every time I gift my mom with something I have a choice to make: I can make a purchase and she will gush over it and tell me I shouldn’t have or I try to stir some creative juices and come up with something a little more personal and creative…

Many years ago my mom and I watched a movie called ‘Hope Floats…’ In this movie there is a very public divorce, followed by depression and a daughter discovering her mother’s love… (not to mention the steamy Harry Connick Jr plays a leading role – mmm mmm mmm sweet sugar pie). There was one line in the movie… ‘My Cup Runneth Over‘ which speaks of the love they have for each other. My mom and I lived hours away from each other during this time but every time we would visit each other one of us who hide a little note with only four words; My Cup Runneth Over. Sometimes I would find it under my pillow after she left, or I would sneak it in her purse. I once found it in my nursing textbook. One Christmas I had it engraved on a pendant.

My mom was with me the day both my children were born. I will never forget the moment in the delivery room when I asked her if she wanted to hold her granddaughter for the very first time and with tears in her eyes she said,  ‘Me?’  As if to say, ‘You are choosing me to hold her at this very moment so soon after she has just entered the world?’

I have thought about that many times over the years. I often thought it strange that she would think I would invite her to be with us when the babies were born but yet not allow her to hold them in her arms? I wondered if it was because as my mother she was a shoo in to join us in the delivery room, almost as if no choice had to be made, it was assumed. But after being with us and witnessing such an intimate moment, to then be invited to share in our joy – that was my choice.  One I would make again and again.

Not just that day, but every day. My choice would be my mom. Thick or thin, good and bad. 

‘Childhood is what you spend the rest of your life trying to overcome, that’s what momma always says. She says that beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it’s the middle that counts the most. Try to remember that when you find yourself at a new beginning. Just give hope a chance to float up. And it will…’ ~ Hope Floats

My Cup Runneth Over… ♥

It’s all fun and games until somebody wets their pants…

One Love ♥

A year ago almost to the day I made my first trip to Haiti. And as we know I have fallen hard for the people of Haiti. After 4 trips now under my belt I am tired. I am tired of the fundraising, of trying to re-arrange my life schedule to go and nurse every day only to come home and pick up where my life went on. And after every trip I say to myself… ok, enough, slow down. 

And then I will get an email from one of my translators reminding me I am loved by them:

Hello Stay, (this is their nickname for me)

              I am very sad cause I don’t hear from you Stay.

Please stay,tell me how was your trip home? How did you find your family? Say hello to your Mom for me and thank her for me cause she has put some one as you on the earth to be my friend for ever.I do appreaciate you Stay and I will keep on praying God for you and all your family. Please let me hear from you cause I thinking of you a lot Stay.

May God bless you for ever and evermore.

                                   Love,

                                          lots of love.

Hey Stay it’s garry .how are doing .it been a long time i don’ t have your  news .i know in the name of the lord everything is fine for you .you do miss me.so i want to know when you come back in haiti because i  would like to see you  when you come . i don’t have time to go in the internet  from time  to time  . i do love you .

                                

And my longing to return to my beloved Haiti is stirred once again. All of a sudden asking people for money or supplies or trades for work becomes easy. The tiredness I feel pales in comparison to what life is like living in Haiti. Excitement to return to my other family drives me to keep going, keep writing, keep sharing with everyone the stories of love and suffering.

In November the tone of the emails changed…

Hi!! My friend where have you been cause i don’ t have your news. We need your prayer we have a cholera epidemic in Haiti!

Stay, please tell me how you and your family are. will you come back to Haiti my friend? It is awful cholera  epidemic and people are dying. We are scared. 

I knew even before the cholera broke out that I was going back, but I did not know what would be in store for me when I got there. I don’t think any of us did. My love for my Haitian family and friends grew ever stronger as they worked through their fears day in and day out, watching their neighbours being carried in on the brink of death.

In February of this year, before my 4th trip the Press Club held a fundraiser to pay for the trips. I knew if there were any ‘leftover’ funds I would leave them with the orphanage. I also knew which one I would leave the funds with. One of our security guards named Jackson also runs an orphanage with at least 35 children. He is a kind man with a humble heart and I wanted very badly to bless him and the children in his care. 

When I found out he no longer worked for the organization I was so disappointed and did not know how I was going to get in touch with him. It seemed nobody had his phone number and I was getting no response to my emails. I told God that if He wanted me to get this money to Jackson He was going to have to make it happen. One day on my way to clinic I saw Jackson standing in a crowd of people waiting for a tap tap and made the driver stop so we could make arrangements to visit with him and the children. A teacher once told me that when you change just one letter Disappointment becomes His Appointment… I believe me spotting Jackson in a crowd of people was divine appointment.

A few weeks after I returned home to Canada I received a letter from Jackson, and with it a picture. The subject of the email was entitled ‘More than a Simple Gift’:

My dear friend Stracey 
I want to take this time to say a big thank you to you, and to translate the expression of gratitude from the heart of the Orphans children to you. For your gift, and your humbling Spirit .The spirit of love and of compassion that you have for the country of Haiti and its people in need. Your gifts by the time you gave it to us made a big difference in the life of these children, additional meals for them. May God the father keep using you in powerful way to make a difference in this world of darkness.

You are special Stacey

Thank you!

The most recent of emails I have received was from SP asking if I would once again return to work in the cholera clinics during their rainy season. They are projecting 800000 people will be infected with cholera. Can I save 800000 in 2 weeks? Nope. I cant even save 800. 80 will be a stretch. But I can wholeheartedly love and care for 8 people. May not seem like much but ask those 8…

In this life we cannot always do great things. But we can do small things with great love.  ~ Mother Teresa

One Love,

Stay ♥

There is one kitchen lady, Mademoiselle Jumelle, who lives in the barracks during the week and after dinner on Friday she returns home to her family. She is not married and has no children so to her the arrangement works. The other kitchen staff all pile into a truck at the end of the day and return home to their children and loved ones.

After eating dinner one evening, which is served in metal bowls and is always too much, I was on my way to brush my teeth and I passed M. Jumelle as she getting in a truck to leave the compound. I said my typical ‘Bonne-nuit’ (goodnight) and smiled as I walked past, thinking it was strange that she would leave on a week night but that was the only thought I gave it.

Imagine my surprise when I got back to the barracks (and by barracks I mean steam room/dorm) and saw her getting ready for bed. I smiled and said, ‘Bonne-nuit encore une fois’ (goodnight again). She looked at me a little strange but returned the words with a smile and went to bed.

From time to time on each trip I liked to give her little gifts. In the ladies room (I like to call the tarantula/cockroach/shower room the ladies room… it does come with towel service after all) one time I gave her some body spray, in the barracks a little necklace. One day I gave all the kitchen ladies new toothbrushes and toothpaste… may not seem like much but they were pretty excited. And later that evening M Jumelle found me in the ladies room and said she missed out and did I have any more. I thought it strange since I remember we hugged but I did not want to embarrass her, and besides it was only a toothbrush so I gave her another.

Have I built this up enough? Can you see where this is going? Sadly, I did not have the nice little memory video playback that you see in movies where the puzzle all fits together (remember the Sixth sense? I did not see that one coming either!) so it took me a bit longer to realize that M. Jumelle has a twin sister. And they share the gifts which apparently I was giving both of them.

Anyway… as it turns out I became quite good friends with M. Jumelle. As good of friends as one can be when you do not understand a word the other is saying. I had a friend once in Grade 3, her name was Ola Zobelle. She and her family has just moved from Warsaw, Polland and she could not speak a lick of English. And I loved her instantly. Our friendship consisted of slow loud speaking (because when there is a language barrier it is custom to also yell as of course they are also deaf) and awkward charades.

But I digress.

Each morning M. Jumelle is sitting and waiting to serve breakfast until I come in then we embrace and cheek kiss. Then this exchange follows:

Me: Ca va? (you are good?)

Her: Qui, ca va bien et toi? (yes, I am good and you?)

Me: Ca va bien aussie. A tu une bonne nuit? (I am also good. Did you have a good night)

Her: Qui. Ou travaille tu au jour dui? (Yes, where will you work today)

Me: Cite Soleil Clinic. Je retourner a la compound a 3 heure. (Clinic. I will be back at 3 oclock)

Her: Lots and lots of french/creole.

Me: Well… Bonne journee. (Well… Have a good day)

Her: Je taime belle cheri (I love you sweet girl)

Me: Moi aussie (me too)

And then at the end of the day at dinner the exact same exchange takes place all over again. It’s a beautiful friendship.

On my last evening Mademoiselle Jumelle asked to see me in the kitchen. She handed me a gift, wrapped in beautiful Haitian wrap, with a card attached. The card read (translated):

The Sisters Jumelle wish to thank you for the acts of kindness and love that you show towards us. Also thank you for your help with the our country Haiti. Your gesture of kindness will never be forgotten. God bless you.

And when I opened the present it was a flat, red, rectangle. I flipped it over and saw the same. And it took me a second to realize that they were gifting me with a cutting board. Just like that. No rhyme or reason but they wanted to give me something and they gave me a plastic red cutting board.

So random. And so meaningful. I mean… they wrapped it in the finest wrapping paper. They even bought a card. And the smile on her face as she had me open it – she was beaming. Like a mother on Christmas morning so excited for her little one to open the most amazing gift ever! And to me, it was.

When I got home the following night I was delighted to find that my kids had made an effort to clean the house, tidy their rooms and even wash the dishes. As they toured me around to show me their work we came into the kitchen and they said, ‘Oh by the way mom, when you were gone we broke the cutting board.’

One Love, ♥

Today my heart is heavy for all the suffering in the world. Most recently from watching the aftermath of the earthquake and tsunami that just devastated Japan…

I have struggled in trying to post something that is full of hope in light of more tragedy and it lead me to think about the art of Kintsugi (I stumbled upon this a few months back)… It is a practice in Japan where they mend cracked or broken ceramics with gold, rendering the piece even more beautiful than it started out. The idea behind it is not to hide the ugliness and brokenness but instead to use gold to make it shine; to illuminate and expose the damage. And at the end of the process the piece is even more beautiful having been broken.

That is my prayer for not only the people of Japan but for anyone who has been cracked. Instead of viewing the cracks, the hurts and pains as a thing of shame and ugliness why not use them as an opportunity to shine? Let God in His perfect artistry take the piece in His hands and repair it to the thing of beauty that He intended.

  

Today I am hopeful for the people of Japan. I am hopeful that they will overcome. And hopeful that the cracks will be mended with gold, and the beauty of the brokenness will shine through.

Safe travels and prayers of protection to friends and other volunteers travelling to Japan today. I know you will be a beacon of light to those who so desperately need to know that their cracked bowls can be transformed into a thing of splendor.

One Love, ♥

Cite Soleil translates into City of Sun. An oxy-moron considering it is one of the darkest cities in the western hemisphere. We have treated gangsters and their families and because of this is why we believe we have been free to come and go into the city. It is not uncommon to hear gunshots ring out, mostly during the night but from time to time during the day. And we just keep on working, going about doing what God has called us to do. They will know that we are Christians by our love…

Here is a link to a Wikipedia article about Cite Soleil

That being said I wanted to share a movie with you called Ghosts of Cite Soleil, a documentary about life in this city. It is not edited by any means so if you are not comfortable hearing an eff-bomb do not click the link. But if you want an idea of where it is we work each day and what we are up against this will give you an idea.

I am sharing the part 1 of the video and the other parts should pop up as you continue to watch.

Prayers of protection are always appreciated. And warranted.

One Love, ♥

Good news and bad news…

Good news is that the last time I was at the cholera treatment centre (CTC) in Bercy there were only 3 patients, 2 of them going home in the afternoon. And the few people we have been treating are much less sicker than the ones we were seeing in November. Our education has been effective. People are coming for treatment sooner, rather than later. No longer are their families bringing them in by wheelbarrow or carrying them over their shoulders. I thank God that the worst is over and continue to pray that this community has seen the last.

The bad news… it has rained over night the past few nights. And although the numbers remain low in Bercy, they have jumped from 15 to 50 patients in Cite Soleil, the slums of Haiti that plays home to hundreds of thousands living in tents and shacks. With the rain the water levels rise and spill over, carrying cholera along with it.

A few days ago I visited the Cite Soleil CTC. It was my first time to see the hospital they erected in 10 days. I was impressed with the thought that went into the planning and building of this centre. In Bercy we did not have the luxury of planning. Cholera hit hard and fast. Our centre consisted of tents, tarps and trenches.

Bercy CTC – Looks like a scene from M.A.S.H.

Cite Soleil CTC – an actual structured building

 

As I was given the tour of the Cite Soleil CTC, it was pointed out to me that even the placement of the tarp was thought out. You can see out but are still able to catch a breeze. You can also see all that is going on inside the centre as well. I looked out the tarp and for a moment, had I not been standing in the midst of a cholera centre, it would have been easy to believe that I was on a tropical island, having a lovely vacation. The view of the palm trees and mountains in the distance is almost breathtaking…

A lovely view right? But as I wandered over for a better view the rest of the picture tells a completely different story…

Breathtaking indeed. And this is just one of many tent cities. An entire family living in just one of those shelters. And this is not a result of the earthquake. This is a result of poverty. Living in squalor among the garbage, pigs and filth is a way of life here. And what can I do but show love? I think nothing of embracing the dirty children with bugs in their eye lashes and smothering them in kisses. Young mothers who cannot afford diapers for their babies are so embarrassed when I take their babies in my arms… they do not want me to get soiled because of their lack. And to me, I am embarrassed that they think I am above dirtying my clothes.

In November before I came I received an email from Sean Penn’s organization. They were looking for volunteers to help with the cholera outbreak. I thought about it for about a minute before I realized that I would only do that so I could come home and say ‘Hey, I just worked with Sean Penn’. Being able to use my skills here in Haiti has been an amazing experience. But being able to use my skills while ministering God’s love… trump card!

We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved, and uncared for is the greatest poverty. ~ Mother Teresa.

 

One Love, ♥

Well… we hosted our first ever 2011 Bercy Cholera Haitian Olympics. Team Ringers Lactate vs Team ORS. And I have to say… it was quite a success!

As per my previous blog… the days continue to be long and hot. And the patients fewer and fewer. We have many staff within the confines of the clinic and a big open field (flat dirt) where tents used to be. And yes, dare I say it… sometimes I am bored. You can only double check an IV drip rate so many times before the Haitian nurse thinks you don’t trust her.  Or walk through a tent and smile at everyone and say ‘Salut’ before they start to think you actually speak the language and begin dialogue with you… And you smile and nod as they talk frantically at you and you think you are doing a good job faking the language until a translator walks by and tells you that you have just agreed to bring home four children. Oops.

So that leads us to Olympics. After a survey of the area I realized I had a) a megaphone – a must have for any sporting event, b) a plethora of balloons for 1 paediatric patient who seems to be terrified of them c) willing participants.

Agenda:

1. Water bucket races

2. Water Balloon Toss

3. Wet rag contest

4. Hockey

1. Water bucket races. I thought this would be a brilliant idea. I have seen countless Haitian people walking around with a bucket on their head and quite frankly it looks like a piece of cake. Of course in making the rules we decided that it will be a no hands allowed race to which I readily agree seeing as I expect to be a pro at this from the get go.

Notice how Antoine is showing off by doing a jig as he carries his bucket hands free…

Yup, definitely cost my team some points on this one. Surprisingly not as easy as it looks.

Moving on…

2. Balloon Toss. Sounds easy enough. We did not have many water balloons so we kept our 2 teams and had to create a relay where we threw the balloon to your teammate and ran to catch it and so on…. the first team to break their balloon loses. So much fun! Except the balloons would not break! I literally slammed one onto the ground and it just rolled away. I seriously think the condom company needs to collaborate with whatever balloon company made these balloons. Notice the little cuts in the blue tarp surrounding the ‘arena’? If you look close you will see little tiny faces peering through. In retrospect it might not have been such a good idea to make cholera look so fun!

We ended up giving the balloons to the kids over the fence. I am sure they are still playing with them!

3. Wet rag contest. This is exactly as stated; take a bucket of water and a rag, and try to fill an empty bucket at the other end of the playing field with the water from the rag. First team to fill bucket wins. This game was a huge hit! One of the players would take the rag soak it and cup his hands with the rag and get a double load. Brilliant! I was thrilled to be on that team which of course won! So Dr Fritz decided we needed a rematch and his team won. As he stood celebrating a poor sport dumped a big bucket on water on his head! (yes, I was indeed that poor sport).

4. Hockey. This was our fourth and final event… and for all of them the first they had ever heard of hockey let alone played it! I guess I need to clarify what ‘hockey’ was by our standards. Mop sticks and an empty pill bottle. And so much fun! We divided them into Team Canada vs Team Haiti… it came down to a shoot out and unlike our Vancouver 2010 Olympics where we cleaned house… Canada did not win this game. But they sure had fun playing it!

 

It was a fun afternoon to say the least. Not to mention a nice change of scenery for the patients who came to watch since we held them in their honour. They sat on cots in the shade with their portable IV poles and laughed along with the rest of us.

 

 

At the end of the day as the sun was setting and our shift drawing to an end we had a closing ceremony. Since the Team Haiti beat Team Canada in the hockey we felt it appropriate to sing their national anthem. And it would not be a proper day in the life of S. Brown if tears did not fall, as they did when listening to the volunteers, staff, patients, and all the people outside looking in sing with pride, with hands over hearts. Once again, in that moment I was filled with hope for this country.

I know she will rise.

 

One Love, ♥

My time at the Bercy cholera treatment centre continues. The days are long. And hot. And the patients are few, thanks to God. Within an hour of arrival I have checked in to the three treatment tents and introduced myself to the Haitian Nurse in charge in each one. I have high-fived and fist-punched the interpreters with greetings of ‘Kore-em’ and ‘Respecte’. I have shared hugs with the cleaning ladies, shaken hands with the Haitian Pastor and settled silly arguments amongst the security guards (over who has biggest muscles).

An hour later the water truck arrives just outside the perimeter of the treatment centre and I watch as women and children push, shove, and yell their way to the front of the line just to fill their bucket with clean water. The clean water that will prevent them and their loved ones from being admitted on the other side of that perimeter. I think of back home… I have seen women and children argue before. Sometimes over men, sometimes of Lego’s. But this daily occurrence of watching the arguments over something I so take for granted sends tremors through my spirit.

As the sun continues to take it’s place high in the clear blue sky my thoughts wander to times when I was a child and could often find relief through a hose in my yard. As the sprinkler swayed from side to side in an effort to maintain a lush green lawn I would hop around and dare the frigid water to find me and refresh me on what I believed to be such a hot summer day. Today the temperature is at least 15 degrees hotter than any summer day in Canada. There has not been a strong rain here in weeks, maybe a month. And there are no sprinklers.

Just before noon the Chaplains arrive. Before they make their way into the tents to pray with patients the Haitian staff have prayer requests. Never asking for anything of monetary value. Always asking for something of much higher worth… Comfort. Peace. They want the rainy season to bring no traces of cholera even though it will mean an end to their employment. They want food, for their neighbours, even though they themselves are hungry.

The Chaplains leave and after lunch I think I might lie down on a cot for a few minutes just to rest away some of the midday heat. On my way to this ‘time-out’ I spot not one, not two, but three Haitian staff sitting with an open Bible on their lap. They do not do this for show. They do this because they are hungry. And what they hunger for I am not foolish enough to think I can provide.

I lie down on a cot and listen to the commotion around me. Dogs barking. Roosters yelling. Someone is playing Justin Bieber on their phone and I realize that there is no place in the world to escape him! But the sounds that ring out the loudest are the people who have gathered around a radio to take in a worship service. They sing along and offer their own praises. Spontaneously in another tent the translators have started their own rendition of Haitian Idol, singing instead songs of worship they have learned in English and sing in earnest.

Today, like most I spend with my Haitian family I am content. And grateful once again that God is continuing to teach me about true riches. Even in the pits of cholera.

One Love, ♥