In America, these truths are distorted by the American Dream, shoved aside by our independent, dog-eat-dog way of life. Indeed, we convince ourselves that wealth is freedom and worldly comfort is enviable. In Haiti, though, these truths are alive and moving, awakening the weary soul, sweetly ringing out in a world that has ears to hear. God is working to create a beautiful tapestry that is woven together with everything that ever has been and will be. On Earth, we see only the knotted, tangled underbelly. It is ugly, inconsistent, nonsensical. We wait for a sign of life beyond and are often greeted by more unwelcome knots. Every now and then, though, in the most unlikely places, He flips over a small piece of the masterpiece to reveal a glorious picture of eternity.
It is 4:30 AM. Even before the first rooster begins its morning boasts, before the women begin making breakfast, I awake to the sound of singing. “Alleeeeluuuuia, Alleeeluuuuuia,” rich voices call in warm harmony. I push my thin sheet away, feeling the floor for my sandals. Quietly, I sneak out of our room of sleeping girls, curious and captivated. The light is hard to define, seeming yellow, orange, pink and green all at once. It is just before daybreak. A skimpy cat slinks by a bowl of fresh grapefruit. As I make my way through the gate of the parsonage to the church beyond, I wonder what exactly coaxes me, the queen sleeper, to continue watching and listening. The sound is as full and brilliant as the sun that rises, not lacking in any way. How can this be so, in a place that is so devastated? How can these people sing?
An infant dies in the night because health care is pitiful. Small children drag paper trucks along the trashy dirt roads, clothed in ripped shorts and too-small sandals, if anything at all. A tumor grows from the back of a gorgeous baby, who carries a burden that one in America need not bear. Donkeys, pigs, goats, and gangly dogs fill the streets, competing with the people to reach tomorrow. Kwashiorkor leaves its mark upon innocent children. A family of 8 shares a two room hut where they sleep on the hard ground each night. Their water is disease-ridden. Their lives are heart-breaking.
And still, they sing. Still, they love. Still, they hope. “Our lives are hard, but we are blessed to have each other,” says one humble man. Each of his children makes a point to hug and kiss every one of us. They walk us half way home, overflowing with gratitude for our simple gifts. Later, Wilton gives me his only piece of bubblegum. I am reminded of a story Mother Teresa tells, of a boy who gave away his first ever piece of chocolate. “This little one gave a great deal, because he gave it all, and he gave something that was very precious to him,” she writes. Wilton, on this night, is that little boy. He giggles as he turns toward the orphanage. Little John is this boy, too; he gives away marbles, hand drawn pictures, cards. His heart is filled with song, though his pockets are empty. Upon receiving a flashlight, it is all Procely can do to keep himself from exclaiming, “Tank you, tank you,” one last time. His eyes dance with joy in the humid Haitian night. These children ferment with unexpected life. Playing soccer barefoot, they dream of their futures, and hope beyond hope that God will lead them to great things.
They know Him. The poor are close to God in their trouble. They know the value of life, and see the world through humble, real eyes. Something on the road cuts me to the soul. The poor are most blessed, because the only water for them is the living water that God gives. The only treasure they can store is in Heaven. They are last, and so shall be first.
So, where do we come in? Just as God is glorified in the lives of these people, who are spiritually rich, He is to be glorified by us, too, who have the physical means to lift these people out of the gutter. Instead of wondering why these people live such tragic daily lives, we must ask ourselves. WE are called to be His hands and feet in the world, His ears and eyes, lights in the darkness. God has a heart for the poor, and has called us, sinners who are physically rich and spiritually poor, to have a heart for these people, who are physically poor, but spiritually rich indeed. In this, we will bring His kingdom come. His will can be done on Earth. If our hearts are with the poor, they are with God.
"What you can do, we cannot do, and what we can do, you cannot do, but together we can do something beautiful." Mother Teresa
He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap; he seats them with princes and has them inherit a throne of honor. 1 Samuel 2:8
So the poor have hope, and injustice shuts its mouth. Job 5:16
The poor will see and be glad— you who seek God, may your hearts live! Psalm 69:32
Listen, my dear brothers: Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom he promised those who love him? James 2:5
2 comments:
Well said, Miss Aly. God gave you eyes to really see.
Aly, this is quite beautiful and well-written. I think Mom said at some point that it's the best reflection on Haiti she's ever read in her nearly 35 years of going! Thanks for your big heart, I'm really glad you were on the trip.
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