Bercy census when I left the clinic yesterday: 7 patients! Cite Soleil is also slow, with a few more numbers than we are seeing in Bercy, but still quite low. We are preparing ourselves for the rainy season but staying optimistic. And by optimistic I mean praying that God will show mercy.
I finished my night shift on Tuesday morning and was thrilled to spend the day with our Chaplains, off the compound! Sometimes it feels like I have regressed to my youth… a curfew, being told when to eat, what to eat, where to go and when to go… But Tuesday was different as the Chaplains have so much more freedom to come and go.
So we visited Tytoo Gardens, an orphanage that I wrote about after one of my previous trips. We were hoping to see some of the children but they are all fortunate and able to attend school. So instead we spent some time with the team that is building rooms for the children. This is the same team from Paul Brandts Build it Forward.
After we left there we went into Titanyen to visit some friends who have been close to Al and Toni (our Chaplains). These 2 boys were so excited to take us and show us their homes, and allow us to meet their families. I was in awe of the state of their neighbourhood… it looked as though the earthquake had just taken place yesterday. So much rubble. The first stop was Rogans home. And before he had us enter his house he said, ‘Ok, I know you are so happy to see my home and meet my family but first I have to tell you something that is very surprising. My father is dead and my mother lives in Dominican. It is just me and my brother living here. I am working to support us and take care of us.’ And with great pride he took us inside and showed us around his little concrete home.
The whole time I was inside all I could think about was how seldom I have people over to my home because it is less than perfect. I will readily admit I am not the greatest housekeeper in the world (might be an understatement) and unless I have time to clean from top to bottom there will be no invite to come over and meet my children or sip on some tea. And Rogan, bless his heart, opened his house and heart to us.
Next stop was Orlando’s home. As we were walking up the path his mom came up behind me with a bag of rice on her head. She was so excited to see us she dropped the bag to the ground and ran over to hug us. So I picked up the bag (50 kilo’s) and carried it the rest of the way… I heard her talking fast to Orlando and when we got to the house he explained that she was embarrassed that the neighbours would see me carrying her rice. If only she knew what an honour it was for me to pick up that bag and carry it on my head.
The same honour it is just for me to be in this country, soaking up and sharing the love.
Last night I returned to Bercy. Bercy. The place that is never far from my conscious thoughts and visits me every night during my sleep. The place where I saw things that far outweighed what I have seen in my professional career back home in Canada. The place where people came in on the brink of death and their only chance of survival was a prayer and a skillfully (and often times prayerfully) inserted life-saving IV. The place where in one moment a patient is sipping rehydration solution and just one more episode of diarrhea has thrown them into a state of unconsciousness. There place where there were so many patients, often times over 200, that we did not have room for them in the tents so we starting bedding them between the tents under tarps.
All these are things I think about on the daily.
And last night I returned. The memory of all that we had endured unknowingly pushed tears down my face as I entered the clinic area once again. Except this time instead of 200 patients there was 15. Instead of tents lined up housing the sick there was empty land, leaving only a memory of what once was.
The Haitian medical staff now have the lay of the land. They have been equipped and trained to accurately care for their own people and they are doing it well.
As morning drew near and I realized the only time during the night I actually touched a patient was while playing with the few little ones who needed treatment and I wondered what I could possibly contribute to this team. I even started to feel angry that I had travelled so far at so great a cost for what? To watch the people sleep?
And God reminded me of my last time here. Instantly I knew that seeing what I was seeing was a gift. A comfort and a peace for my tormented spirit. Being able to see such a decrease of suffering in the people I have come to love filled me with hope and joy. So instead of running around trying to keep people from dying I have been making new friendships with the Haitian staff… attempting to speak in creole and appreciating the hearty laughter that follows. Smiling faces is a nice change from the strain and drain we wore in November.
Many times throughout the night we have spoken of ‘November’, and always there is a silence as we reflect on what God brought them through ( I say them instead of us because I was back home after 3 weeks, they had to continue living it). I am grateful that I had the opportunity to work along side of them and grateful to come back and see that they are alive and well. One sweet nurse, Silianne, came on to day shift and saw me from across the field. She came running yelling my name and threw her arms around me and just started to cry. I did not even have to ask why the tears. There is an unspoken understanding that we are truly one in the bond of love.
Recently I watched the mini-series ‘Band of Brothers’. It is about the paratroopers from World War II and how they became family. My Grandpa was also a paratrooper in the war and my Grandma was telling us how years and years had passed since the war; the men were home with new families and jobs and moved on with their lives but when they got together for a reunion it was as though they had never spent a day apart. I feel the same way about my own ‘Band of Brothers’, years and years can pass…
I will never forget.
On a lighter note… after I posted my blog on Sunday saying that Paul Brandt had just come in the lounge I had a lovely afternoon visit. We sat and chatted and he played for me the songs on his new albums coming out in the fall. It was so easy not to be starstruck because of what a gentleman he is, and so full of grace and humility. My dry mouth quickly passed and I was even able to joke around with him. He is here working on a project called ‘Build it Forward’ that will air on CMT in the fall. And basically he has paired up with SP and Habitat for Humanity to create this show that blesses people and teaches them to bless in return. He chooses families who have applied for Habitat for Humanity in Canada to get a new home but first they must travel to a third world country and in turn build a house for another family in need.
When we first arrive on the compound there is a sign on the free bunks that says ‘Available’. I took that sign and casually held it up as I walked passed the camera crew this morning. I thought it was clever and cheaper than eharmony but I think it might get edited out!
Well I have arrived back in the land that I love. And within about 10 minutes of being at the airport I had an ‘incident’. As per the norm the second I walk outside the doors with my luggage on the trolly the porters descend upon me like flies on…. Now don’t get me wrong, I understand that they have to earn a living as well but I don’t think having one man push my cart while another 2 or 3 men walk along just pointing the way is reason to give everyone money. And so I chose one fella (the first to grab the cart out of my hands) and start making the trek to the parking lot. One of my friends who was with me was also accosted by the men but he was quite fine to take the cart of his own. So I told the one man in french, No he can push his cart and he is not giving you any money. The man was so offended that he hit me! Hard! My hand took the brunt of it but it was pretty red. I was not impressed. But I’ll tell you who was even more upset were the other Haitian porters who saw it happen. Next thing I know they are all escorting me to the van and their phones are ringing and they are frantically talking and waving hands. And of all times this was the first time that I was truly comfortable at the airport.
So I sat in the van waiting for the rest of the team and the head porter came over to me, checked out my hand and fired the guy! I was mortified! 10 minutes in Haiti and someone lost their job because of me?! But I appreciated how they explained it to me, ‘Sister, we are here to do a job. Yes, we all want to be the one to work for you but we are just trying to make money. That man hit you and make Haiti look bad. And people won’t come back. And then we don’t have job anymore.’
Fair enough. But it still felt pretty rotten.
So it looks as though cholera has slowed down to a trickle. 10-15 patients at each site. In November we had 10-15 people in each tent. People being brought to us in wheelbarrows. Carried in by families while at the brink of death. And now I am told to bring a book to help pass the time… And the new team that is here are bright eyed and full of questions and worries about what is to come. I don’t have the heart to tell them I still have nightmares from the trauma of it all in November. 10-15 patients, while still needless and horrifying, is like a walk in the park.
So I am off to man the fort tonight back at Bercy where the cholera hit hardest back in November. I am pretty excited to not end my shift in tears and heartache!
Oh by the way… I totally sat beside and ate lunch with Paul Brandt today. No biggie. I was very excited to find out he was coming today and I jokingly said this morning that I was going to shave my legs for the occasion. So when he gets here I very casually start chatting with him (after dry heaving) and he looks at my foot which is wrapped in gauze from an earlier situation and he says, ‘What happened there? Did you cut yourself shaving?’ The jerks totally told him!
Anyway, no word of a lie, he just came in to the lounge and sat down beside me… I better go be hospitable.
There are few times when I have been speechless. Very few. If anyone knows me you know this to be true.
Last night I was speechless.
What an honour to have London’s finest come together to help raise funds so I can continue to do what has been laid on my heart to do and not worry about the big bill waiting for me when I get back home.
Although I have already given thanks, and probably will weeks from now, I feel I need to pay special tribute once again to Joe Belanger (who I finally met in person last night!) It is one thing to speak with someone over the phone and even read the kind words he has written on my behalf, but to see the sincere emotion in his face throughout the night was very touching for me. I also met his beautiful wife. I can say with certainty that there was not a time in the evening when I crossed paths with either of them that we did not exchange hugs. Such lovely, lovely people. Thank you.
The first musician up on stage was Jonathon Davis. What a way to start the night off with a bang! Lyrically the guy is a genius. And I love his smile. Next up, Paul Langille. Big and bold (and slightly terrifying!) When this man sings, you listen. And when he plays guitar, you listen. Stay tuned for his soon to be released children’s album, sure to give your child nightmares. And for the love of everything, keep him away from your cat!
Third act of the night was the one man show Doug Varty singing everything from the blues to ballads to rock and roll (although when he introduced his one song saying it was Canadian Rock I was expecting Nickleback… must be a generation thing!) I loved sitting front and centre and catching his smiling eye as I sang along with him and the crowd. Next time I will bring my tambourine. Oh yeah baby. Nobody rocks the tambourine like this girl!
The final performance of the night, The Strugglers I sadly did not have the chance to hear. Alas my drive to Detroit to catch my flight had the trump card and I had to bid farewell. But I had a chance to meet and chat with them and I already love them. Plus any guy who can rock a bow tie like that is stellar in my books. I imagine their sound to be somewhat similar to Edward Sharpe… I will definitely be going out of my way to hear them to find out if I am right.
Thank you London Press Club for an amazing night! Thank you for your generosity in funds, in venue and bringing out all the fun members to boot! Clay, I am sure we will be married soon. Steve, thanks for the dance.
To my coworkers and friends who came out (Angela you are a TROOPER!) – thank you from the bottom of my heart for once again being part of another fundraiser for my crazy love.
As I write this I am sitting first class, first row, window seat. Why? Because this morning they asked me if I would consider taking a later flight into Miami before flying into Port au Prince and I said sure as long as I would not miss my connection. Turns out I would have missed my connection but to thank me for even being open to the trade they bumped me up. So I am sitting with my blanket on my lap, having just had a nice hot towel delivered to me after enjoying a complimentary breakfast consisting of fresh fruit, steel porridge and a biscuit. Tough life. It is a sweet reward for driving all night to catch this flight in the first place!
Soon I will be back in Haiti. 4th time… 4th date 😉 I sure am enjoying this love affair.
The countdown is on. In less than 4 days I will once again be back in Haiti, making it my fourth trip since I first left in May. Someone commented to me that I have a ’Crazy Love’. So appropriate!
When I returned home in November my local newspaper ran a story about my time in Haiti. Front page and all. The guy who ran the story must have called me at least 5 times the night before he handed it in to make sure he had all the facts and quotes correct. I was happy to share as much as I could in an effort to keep the needs of Haiti in the news.
In January my Grandma called me to tell me she was reading the paper and once again this same writer had spoken of me and my time in Haiti. He spoke of others and their plights and basically was encouraging others to remember to live for more than just themselves.
Last month I contacted this same writer to let him know that once again I am off to Haiti. This time I was coming to him asking for help. I decided this time that I was not going to ask my colleagues and friends for a dime… three times in a year is quite enough and they have been more than generous. So I wrote and asked if somehow I could get the community involved. I had no idea what I was asking for, just that I was not asking those closest to me to once again dig into their wallets.
He quickly replied that he did not think he could help, and was not entirely sure what it was I was looking for. Fair enough, he had already done so much. But within hours he emailed back… this time to let me know that he was putting together a fundraiser event to help with the costs of this trip and also would be running a story in the newspaper once again.
As I write this I am full of gratitude for the kindness of a stranger. I have never met this man.
Let me assure you… this is one Joe that is far from average.
Thanks Joe Belanger.
And thank you to those who responded to the article and sent cards. A few people said they did not have much to give but the same was true with the loaves and the fishes and look how far that went… 5000 people later with full bellies and leftovers to boot. Your ’not much’ will go farther than you know.
Is anyone really surprised at this point that once again I am going back to Haiti? I sure hope not. There has been lots of background chatter about why I return so often. One of the reasons I hear most often is that I have a fella I am visiting… and to that I say BINGO! They have nailed it. His name is Rosemond and he has the most gorgeous eyes. His smile melts my heart. And when he is in my arms the world is just a kinder place… I love him dearly and cannot wait to smother him with my kisses!
Of course I cannot lie… there have been others…
Many, many others…
And you know I didn’t fly all the way to Haiti to go without lots of kisses…
And as many of the ladies will tell you.. sometimes it is nice to be chased by the fellas…
So there you have it… the truth is finally out. I have indeed fallen in love in Haiti. So you can see of course why I keep going back!
Truth be told if you have visited Haiti you can understand the pull to return. And I would go all in to guess that if you have indeed visited Haiti it was never just once… or plans have been made to visit again. Of course if you follow my blogs I hope I have given you a good reason to understand why I keep going back – or maybe even inspired you to visit for yourself. I am sure most of you are ready for another blog series from the field! Rest assured my friends that although I am at home, trying to be a good mother, working hard at being a conscientious nurse, and basically living a blessed life here in Canada, not a day has gone by where I have not thought of Haiti. The children, the babies, the mothers and fathers and all ages from beginning to end.
My dear, sweet Haiti, God has not forgotten you. I will not forget you. You are loved. And I cannot wait to see you again.
xo
If you would like to make a donation towards the funding of my upcoming trip to Haiti on February 25 please click HEREor email me at simplicity4jc@hotmail.com
Prayers of course are ALWAYS welcome and much appreciated 🙂
I have shared some lovely stories about the work that is being done in Haiti, and even a few lovely stories from my life at home. I have shared some touching photos. And now it is time to share my top 5 humanitarian fails…
1. So a few years ago I was taking my kids to the grocery store and as we pulled in we saw a lady sitting outside, wrapped in blankets with a sign that said HOMELESS AND HUNGRY. I felt this would be a good opportunity to teach my kids a lesson in humanity so while in the store I purchased her an entire roast chicken dinner, complete with salad and rolls. On the way out we pass the pop machine and I realize she will probably be thirsty with this great meal so I add a few colas to the feast. We loaded our own groceries in the car and drove over to where she was. The kids rolled down the window and their little faces filled with excited anticipation took in the beautiful gesture…
I gave the lady the food and told her that we just wanted to bless her with a meal and that God loves her. She was very grateful until I handed her the colas… then she started to yell at me because she was a diabetic and she could not drink that crap. Other obscenities followed.
And soon my kids excited anticipation turned to shock and horror.
2. When I am at the clinic in Cite Soleil the interpreters really like it when I bring my laptop in so we can listen to music. Even the patients seem to enjoy the sound of music as they wait in the heat of the sun to be seen by the medical team.
On one particular day one of my interpreters said to me, “Sista I really like your laptop, it is very nice.” He was not hinting for me to give him the latop top. He genuinely liked it and loved that I allowed him free reign with music selection.
And sadly, my North American response still makes my cheeks burn with embarrassment. To my impoverished interpreter living in the slum of all slums beneath a tarp covered shack with no hydro or running water I responded with, “Yeah, I don’t like it. None of the ports work so I cannot charge my iPod or upload pictures from my camera…”
Yeah, it has taken me 8 months to share that story. THAT’s how embarrassed I am.
3. One summer day after loading up our car with the groceries we had just purchased my daughter and I were about to pile into our car when an overbearing little old lady approached us and asked for a ride home. She never allowed me a chance to respond and she was already reaching for the car door. I was hesitant to let a strange woman in my car with my daughter present so I told her that I was sorry I could not give her a ride. She was persisitant and promised that she lived just around the corner, pointing in the opposite direction that we live. I once again apologized but told her that we live in the other direction and perhaps she could find another ride.
But this little lady was persistant and checked herself comfortably into my car… front seat no less. What was supposed to be ‘just around the corner’ ended up being a good 20 minutes away and during rush hour traffic to boot. She chattered all the way about what an angel I was and how Cara should be so happy her mom is such an angel and all can think of is how she forced me into the ‘angel’ role!
45 minutes later we made it home.
And our ice cream melted.
4. I was lucky enough to attend a conference for Vascular Surgery in Baltimore with some of my favourite nurse friends. We decided to take advantage of our time there and each night would go out for dinner. After one evening we decided we would walk home, even though we were not sure of the sketchy neighbourhood we were staying in. On the way home we passed by what appeared to me to be a theatre of sorts. And outside were many people with sleeping bags all camped out.
To my friends shock and dismay I wandered up to the people and said, “Oh are you guys in line for concert tickets?”
Nope. They were homeless. Swing. And a miss.
5. Often times on my way to work in the summer at a busy intersection there is a guy who seems to drop out of the sky and land on my windshield to clean it in hopes of receiving a dollar or two in return. And as many times as it has happened is as many times as I have had to shoo him away and let him know I have no cash or change. (hey, its the day and age of the debit card)
One particular day after choosing cashback at a store earlier in the day, I was feeling rather generous and as I neared the interection to the red light out came the Houdini windshield guy. I gave him the go ahead to wash my windshield wave. He smiled and went right to work while I rooted around in my purse for the money I was planning to give him only to remember that I had left it for my kids earlier in the day.
As he finished he looked to me with pride and expectancy and all I could do was sit there with my card in hand and ask, “Do you take debit?”
So yeah, in case you were considering suggesting me for sainthood I thought you better know a few of the other stories!
All in fun friends!
Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can. ~ John Wesley
January 12. 35 Seconds. 300,000 dead. 1,000,000 homeless. 500,000 orphans.
To some, these numbers will be splashed on the tv once again, a reminder of the devastation. To the survivors, these numbers are forever ingrained in their memories, a reminder of what they have lost. To the volunteers, these numbers are etched in their hearts, a reminder of what they are fighting for.
Today, along with the people of Haiti, I wore black and white. Black to honour and mourn the people who have passed, and white to honour the survivors, and their fight to live.
I once said in an interview that I felt shame because the only reason I even knew about Haiti was because of the earthquake. I was quite content living life in my little bubble of happiness. And then one image spoke to me. After days of watching footage of devastation, people crying, people dying it was the picture of the man in a white tank top holding a sign that said WE NEED HELP.
And just like that I felt as though that picture had been sent to me personally. And then it dawned on me… I can help. Physically, I can go and lay my hands on people and do something to help. Despite the reading materials I was given on how to properly dispose of human remains, and the papers I had to sign in case of riots, the photo I had to send in so they could identify my remains… all these things could not keep me from wanting to be there. Instantly I felt drawn to these people in a way I could never truly explain, and to this day I still cannot.
There is so much I could say. So much I want to say but I realize that today is not about me. It is about the people of Haiti. The families who carry on through their grief and sorrow, simply because they have to. There is no sick time for mental health days, or therapy to to work through the nightmare of what happened.
I think about the women of Haiti. There certainly is no government support for the single moms who very likely ended up with a child or two because of rape or prostitution. I think of the grandmother I met in Cite Soleil who lost 8 of her children to disease and the remaining 7 died in the earthquake. Today is about them.
I think of Pastor Jean, the director of the orphanage who had many children in his care before the earthquake. And after the earthquake do you know where he found 2 more children? In the rubble of their orphanage that collapsed on them. They lay for days in the rubble, surrounded by sights unimaginable, thirsty and hungry until he found them and took them in. Today is about them.
I think of the good men in Haiti who already struggled to provide for their families before the earthquake and watched as their livelihood crumbled around them. Their wives and children crushed beneath buildings. Today is about them.
I think of the students who were fortunate to be given the opportunity to receive an education and in 35 seconds, their world changed. Entire schools crumbled. Balthezar, our interpreter, used to be a school teacher. He taught computers and now he drives around the NGOs and translates so we can help his people. The school is gone and beneath the rubble lies many of his students. Today is about them.
So today with a heavy heart that beats in my chest but resides in Haiti, in the orphanages, under tarps, in the clinics, with the mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers… I think of the Haitian people who have become my family and taught me that when we are cut we all bleed red and tears transcend any language barrier.
So with this new year and on the anniversary of the earthquake I make known my resolution that has been inspired by the people I have come to love so much:
When an opportunity is given to show kindness I will be kind; to my children, to my friends, to a stranger… it doesn’t matter who. Kindness breeds kindness.Some suggestions: when at a Drive Thru purchase for the purchase behind you. Sit with your kids and go through their toys or clothing and create piles to give away to those in need. When you tell someone you will pray for them take that moment then and there to say a prayer. Donate your time at a local food bank or soup kitchen. Visit the elderly.
Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see. ~ Mark Twain
Every year in Christmas cards that I receive there are always a few people that are ambitious and include their ‘year in review’ family newsletter. I love reading about the moments in their lives that they are proud of or even the little things that brought them joy.
So here is my year in review, that, if I was ambitious enough to send Christmas cards, I would have liked to include…
January 10: my baby girl turned 13 and turned me into the mother of a teenager. I am fearful for the next few years on my life but I have to say so far so good…
January 12: Of course it has to be mentioned… Earthquake in Haiti. 35 seconds. 300000 lost their lives. Many more lost their homes. While I was not in Haiti when the earthquake hit I can say with certainty that it did in fact change my life. More to come…
February 6: Our first ever family cruise! After a year of planning and saving the kids and I cruised with my dad and step-mom through the Western Caribbean… Some highlights include: snorkelling, swimming with dolphins, zip-lining, and a visit to the mayan ruins to name a few. Of course if you ask my son he would say the food. In fact just last night at dinner he was still talking about it almost a year later. If you ask my daughter what her favourite part of the cruise was I am pretty sure she would have said our waiter, Enrique. I remember one day in particular when we were off the ship sight-seeing with the option to stay later but we had to return so we would not miss dinner with Enrique. This is a man who works for months at a time to save money for his family back home and then gets a few weeks off to spend with them, only to repeat the cycle throughout the year. He made our trip something very special.
February 13: My son turned 12… his last year as a tween. And most likely my last without grey hair.
February 28: EH OH CANADA GOLD! Where were you when Syd the Kid slammed that puck in the net during overtime and won Canada the gold medal? I was in my sisters basement. Where was she? In the bathroom. She had to have a nervous pee when the game went into overtime and sure enough in the 30 seconds she was gone we won the Olympic Gold Medal! The shouts of joy from her hubby, my kids and myself were soon followed by her echoed yells of ‘What happened????’ She got to see the replay… for the next 2 weeks! After this win I headed out for some celebration with my Wingman and partied with the cow bell! Gold Times for sure! So proud to be a Canadian!
March 17: St Patty’s Day. Am I Irish? Aren’t we all Irish on this day? I felt it had to be mentioned as of all the holidays this is my Wingman’s favourite. So we got all dolled up in as much green gear as possible and partied with the leprechauns…
April: Received word that volunteers were needed for Haiti. Felt that it was too close to summer to try to get off work and that I did not have funds to pay to get there. Declined said offer. Felt sick and unsettled after declining. Sent out email to friends and family asking if they could donate. Sent out email to colleagues asking if they could cover shifts. Both tasks completed within hours. Haiti trip booked.
May 1 – 15: Project Haiti #1. Life changing. Fell in love and lost my heart to the people of Haiti. Worked along 3 of the most amazing volunteers I have ever had to privilege to meet: Dr Chuck, MaryAnn, and Allison. Could not have made it through without their love and support.
May 20: Home and in process of booking return trip to Haiti.
June: School is out for the year and my kids have done well. Cara has a report card full of A’s and Brandon won a leadership award. Could not be more proud of these kids.
July: Visits with family near and far. Working many shifts to prepare for Haiti trip #2. Grateful for donations from friends and family to support this trip. Many supplies donated from people and organizations. Also went to first ever Keith Urban concert!
August: Haiti Trip #2: Is it possible to love this country more than before? This trip I was exposed to the mobile clinics, many orphanages, and of course met the new man in my life: Baby Coo Coo!
While I was away my kids enjoyed 3 weeks up north visiting with their grandparents and my daughter also had a chance to see the love of her life in concert: Justin Bieber!
Once again, after returning home I immediately start to plan another trip to Haiti.
September: Kids are back in school. I know I am one of those mothers who is the exception to the rule – I miss having them home with me. Brandon started french immersion and Cara started grade 8! She officially rules the school.
October: Won a trip to LA! After having never won anything in my life I was lucky enough to win a trip for 3 nights at the Beverly Hilton and bring a friend with me. Tickets included a concert to Lady Antebellum. Had an amazing time and was thrilled to share it with one of my besties. Also, we had a wee visit with our friend Jack…
November: 5 days after returning home from LA I turn around and head back to Haiti for what I think is going to be much the same as August. Instead I am thrown full force into the trenches of a cholera outbreak. My heart is broken for the suffering I see. I wonder how much more these people can take. Along with an amazing team we work around the clock fighting to save lives. We lose a handful of people but the success far outweighs the loss. I end up staying longer as I cannot bear to leave while things are so awful. I know there are people equally and more capable than I am to care in my absence… but my heart remains attached so strongly it cracks just a little bit more as I once again return home. This time I am broken and devastated by what I have seen and experienced. I still hate cholera.
December: Sluggishly prepare for Christmas. I am working many shifts and run down. Eventually sickness sets in and for the past few weeks I have been fighting bronchopneumonia. Breathing is a struggle on the daily. I am weak and tired. This is my year without my kids for Christmas and I wonder if I can just sleep it away… But I am surrounded with a family who has a fierce love for me and instead find myself resting in their arms, on their couches and in their beds. I know I am blessed.
For your consideration I will not post pics of myself at this time. It ain’t pretty!
My children are home and I am overjoyed at the sight of them! To end the year we have joined my brother and sister and their families at my dad and step-moms…
It has been a full year full of many life changing experiences. I have made many wonderful new friends, grown stronger alongside the ones I already have and am reminded daily how blessed I am to have such a wonderful family.
This year my prayer will be not that God would change my circumstances but that He would continue to change my character.
Happy New Year my friends!!
One Love, ♥
P.S. if you have been enjoying the blog throughout the year please subscribe… button can be found on the right hand column!
I have never been a fan of Christmas. Don’t get me wrong I love the giving part… but only until I know that the gift has made the receiver smile can I breathe a sigh of relief.
I think it stems back to when I was 11, maybe 12. I was in K-Mart or Zellers or some other high end super store with my mom when I saw it. The most amazing outfit I had ever seen. It was Punky Brewster meets DJ Tanner meets Tiffany. A cute little black and white striped skirt and a cute little black and white striped top. I LOVED it and had to have it. But I wasn’t one of those kids who ‘had’ to have everything they set their eyes on. I just knew we didn’t have the means and I would rather save my tantrums for something productive…
Anyway… I asked for it for Christmas. I knew there was a chance that it might happen for Christmas. Oh I wanted that outfit bad. Christmas morning arrives and as per our family routine we first open our stockings. Then one present at a time we take turns opening the gifts under the tree. It is painful at times. Mostly when mom got a gift because we know she can’t rip it open. She delicately peels off a piece of tape. Then flips it over and delicately peels another piece. And then when we think it might be time for bed the gift is open and someone else gets another turn!
I waited. And finally… the clothing box is set before me. I can hardly contain my excitement as I rip into it. I open the lid and pull off the tissue paper and pull out A WHITE LACEY FRILLY DRESS? Ugh. I mean seriously? I put a smile on my face and give a great big thanks. I think it must be a joke. I pray it is a joke. And then there are no more presents left under the tree. My heart is pounding. But wait….
Mom says, ‘Is that all? Isn’t there anymore?’ Yesssssss. I knew it was a joke! And with her horrible acting skills she pretends to root around trying to find a missing gift. I am elated. Maybe even giggling. It won’t be long…
And then the box comes out… a little bigger than a clothing box but I know they are trying to fool me. But wait… what? Why is the box going to my brother? Why is he opening it? Why did he just open a nintendo gaming system? Why is everyone leaving the family room and setting it up in the living room. And most importantly… WHAT ABOUT ME???
I know. I know. Not even Dr Phil would touch this.
This Christmas season I entered with a heavy heart. After my time in Haiti my perspective of the world I live in, the world around me has changed. I have seen so much suffering. I have seen heartbreak. I have seen cruelty.
But I have also seen true examples of the what I feel should embody the spirit of Christmas. I have seen the joy in the face of an orphan after receiving the simple gift of a sucker. I have seen hope in the husband who brought his pregnant wife in for treatment. I have seen peace wash over a woman receiving Jesus after losing all 14 of her children…
And I have seen love. Oh have I seen love. And I have felt it. More this year than any other. And not because I was loved any more this year than I was last year but because I grew an understanding of what it really is. No bells and whistles. No conditions. No limits. No boundaries. No flashy gifts. No hollow words.
And not just in Haiti either. It’s all around. It’s in the family who stands vigil at her husbands beside in the ICU. It is in the children who visit their father in the nursing home even though he doesn’t remember who they are. It’s in the newborn child clinging to mom and dad knowing all is safe in those arms. It is in the wife who forgives her husband. It is in the neighbour who bakes a casserole for the old woman next door. It’s in the workplace who donate toys and gifts for the family who otherwise would go without. It’s in the email filled with words of encouragement.
But the greatest example of love is when that father’s son was born… in a manger.
Now that’s a love story that fills me with joy, hope and peace.
Let’s not forget why we celebrate Christmas. Don’t leave Jesus saying, ‘Why is everyone leaving the family room? Where is everyone going? And most importantly… WHAT ABOUT ME???’
Dr Phil is busy enough.
Merry Christmas my friends. Thank you for your love.
CharityStace 