The camp.

Yesterday Leann and I headed over to the large refugee camp that’s now a part of our community.  As difficult as it was to see, it was a good visit.  We talked and played with a lot of different kids. It was kind of surreal.  In so many ways it was business as usual.  The kids were still just kids.  They were laughing and joking and playing.  Some were making kites, some were using sticks to build model houses, some were playing clapping hand games.   Almost all of them wanted their pictures taken.

But when I took a step back—it made my heart grieve all the more because I knew th reality of the situation.  Amongst the happy children there were deperate parents. Two specific parents who were hopeless enough to offer me two of their children then and there because they just weren’t sure how they were going to move on.

There was this other mother there.  She was the mother of a very small six month old baby.  Her baby was sick.  Very sick.  The baby had her face winced in pain the whole time I was there, but she could not cry louder than just a tiny, tiny whimper.  She was obviously dehydrated.  I asked the mother what kind of symptoms she’d been having and she said the baby has been throwing up and having diarrhea for several days.  I asked if she’d taken the baby to the medical tent located in the center of the camp.  She said that she hadn’t because there were always so many people there.  She didn’t want to wait in line.  I begged her to take the baby the next day.  I told her if she didn’t want to wait in line she should get there very early.  She said she could go, “demen si dye vle” (tomorrow if God wills).  I plan to check on her tomorrow.  I can’t stop thinking about her.

There ware an estimated 6,000 homeless people living in this camp.  SIX THOUSAND!  In a city of about 35,000 that’s a staggering amount.  Where do you go from here?

God save Haiti.  You’re the only one who can.