Bright Eyes

I was in a small grocery store last night. It was a Sunday so most of the shops and such in Port-Au-Prince were closed.  I was forced to go to a small food outlet on the Main Delmas(65 I think). I walked through the confined areas of the store on my way to the deli case in the back, and waited for a worker to show up to take my order, pepperoni and mozzarella. A small girl walked up to me and smiled. She was about eight and had colorful berets in here tightly braided hair. She spoke to me so quietly--and me being half deaf--that I had to lean over and ask her to repeat herself. She jumped back in fear, but seeing that I was only trying to hear what she was saying, she approached me and said something about 25 gourdes... I still couldn't hear her. I did, however, understand that she wanted some money. I wasn't going to give her money. She was probably hungry and truly didn't have anything to eat at her house. Her friend soon accompanied her, probably a year or two older, and they just stood there watching me talk to the man who showed up to sell me something from the deli case.

To paint a picture of what it is like to purchase "off the grid," meaning not at a major grocery store, I will further risk boring you with the details. As it was I wanted pepperoni and Mozzarella cheese. I asked for pepperoni and the man replied, "no." I countered with, "salami?" He said, "Pa bon!" meaning that he thought the meat in the case had gone bad. I pointed at a large stick of salami and the man replied (in Kreyol mind you), "This has been here a long time," then wrinkled his nose to indicate he thought it might be bad too. I said, "slice some off and we will see..." He did so and I smelled the Salami. It smelled... sort of OK. I tore off a small piece and ate it, it seemed alright, though not refrigerated at all. I handed some of the sample to the small girl standing next to me and she popped it in her mouth and smiled. Then I realized that it was beginning to turn. I ordered Ham instead... There was some Gouda cheese and processed cheese. I asked for Mozzarella but knew before I asked that there was none. I ordered the American Cheese, a couple of boxes of milk and went to the front counter to pay for my groceries. 

All the while the little girls walked with me and stood by me... almost like they were my daughters waiting for their papa. I paid and left the store. The little girls followed me. I waved goodbye and we left for home (Kristie and the kids were waiting in the car for me).

I wanted to help, but chose not to. I wanted to take the kids home with me and care for them to... but I didn't do that either.

I also have several young friends who are about to begin school, but do not have the funds necessary to even begin. They come to me and ask for help. I can't help them. I wish that I could.

I look into the faces of these young people and see the value God has placed in them. The little girls were God's little ones. Their the twinkle in their bright eyes will most likely be extinguished as they grow and live in this difficult country. So many of these young people end up having the stuffing knocked out of them by the time they are in their twenties. They have an infinite value to God. I can see it in them. They are looking for someone to take care of them... and to love them and find value in them, but I have to send them home hungry, every day. 

It is difficult to live in Haiti.