We continued to carry bags up the mountain until 11 am ourselves, just to show appreciation of their work for us. But doing that for 2 more hours compared to 2-3 more entire days, was nothing.
Jean Gary thought today would be a good day to visit the orphanage and Caille Coq Eglise Methodist Church instead of Saturday, as we had planned, because we were still waiting on other materials that will surely be here by then. Jocelyn had lunch on early and then we packed up for our day-long trek around the island. We left on foot down the northeast shore by several school houses where many children in the area attend. Jean Gary tells us he is a teacher at one of them. He took the week off to help us with the re-construction on the church. He is a lay speaker there and the work is important to him. I see Jean Gary as the next pastor of Nan Soulette, though he is still probably in his late 20's right now. He is a wise and Godly man, nonetheless. We saw a few kids along the way and they all shouted "Jean Gary!" when they saw him. You could see the pride on his face. We were proud of him also.
About 1/2 hour or so later, we started up the next mountain and left the shoreline. It was not much longer that we hit the outskirts of Madam Benard, a good size town on Ile a Vache. Soon, market place sheds and huts lined the streets. They were zigging and zagging right and left in all directions; almost a maze. Tuesdays and Thursdays are market place time, so we landed smack in the middle on a closed day. A few vendors were speckled among the hundreds of empty huts selling candy, pop, and fresh produce. We wanted a Coke in the worst way, so we began to ask and sure enough, one vendor went to his "back room" and pulled out 10 long neck bottles of Coke-a-cola...cold! It was like heaven in the midst of the 90 degree week and no refrigerators in sight. An elderly woman began pulling out chairs for us, one after another, creating a makeshift cafe just ouside the hut we purchased the coke from. We sat down, tipped up a coke and ....aaaahhhhhh! Refreshed.
Onward we traveled to the Presbyterian Catholic, Lutheran complex. Large metal gates open to a series of buildings, one after another. Over 400 kids go to school here; 100 moved from Port Au Prince due to the earthquake damage to their school there. The complex includes a trade school for older orphans, preparing them with a skill before they go off on their own. Woodworking, food services, and sewing are all within the complex. Also is the orphanage for mentally and physically handicapped orphans. Some of the children's parents died in accidents or from illness. Others could not be cared for any longer. Still others were simply abandoned. James fell into this last category. His mother left him to go get married. We don't know how long she was gone. But when she returned, not only was he emaciated from lack of food and water, but he had also fallen. She left him for good them...left him for death.
God had another plan. James has a severe brain injury and is now mentally challenged. His legs are nothing more than skin stretched over bones. His knee joint was the largest point of his legs, from where they attached to his hips to his ankles. I have never seen anything like this...ever...on television or otherwise. From his height, I would say James was about 6 or 7 years old. I could see both his lower leg bones seperately. I could see no muscle attached to those bones...none. It was like chicken wings, that part of the wing, just past the tip. Two bones. No meat. Space between with skin covering...only this wasn't a chicken wing. This was a child's leg. His knee to his hip was no different.
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I cried when I touched him. I know Jesus cried too.
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He felt smaller than the elderly women I have touched upon their death beds as I prayed over them and they breathed their last breath. I will be praying for James for a long time. I hope all of you will also. It is a matter of life or death. I pray for life. Sister Flora siad surgery was done on his head and he is eating now and growing. I can't imagine him any skinnier. James doesn't talk or even hold his head up. He simply slumps over himself in a wheelchair, tied in for safety. I told him that Jesus thought he was the most beautiful child in the entire world. I told him I thought he was too. I couldn't get myself to take a picture of him, though I surely wanted one for visual prayer. It felt like a circus show. I just couldn't do it. His image will never leave my eyes without a picture...the most beautiful child in the world. I will never forget.
A teenager with drool on her face and a foot turned on its side, played patty cake with me over and over and over again as she laughed loudly at the top of her lungs. My hands were covered in drool by the time we were done. :-) A tiny baby fell asleep in my arms as I became her grandmother, if only for a few minutes, rocking, swaying, and patting her rhythmically as I held her close to my breast. The Haitian woman who was caring for this infant now at the orphanage saw her sleeping in my arms and said "mama". She knew only a mama could put a weary baby to complete rest in just a few minutes. I smiled. Jesus smiled. We held her together.
Another young girl, maybe 3 or 4, was laid over Darryl's shoulder. He tried setting her down once but she would have nothing of it. She wanted the touch; to be held by loving arms. A few minutes later, I pried her off of him (literally) and then turned her around to my shoulder again rocking, swaying and patting as I sang "Twinkle Twinkle" to her. I was amazed just minutes later as she fell asleep also. It was then I realized I came in Christ's name. Only the peace of Christ has the power to settle a child's spirit, in a stranger's arms, like that. I have never experienced that before. A touch. A sway. A grma's heart. Asleep in Christ's arms. Peace at last. Sleep dear child. Rest. Your daddy in heaven loves you. Be well. Be well.
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We distributed hand made dolls to many of the children. Our good friends at Concord Presbyterian Church, next door to CUMC, made each one with love in their hearts. Many children instantly hugged the baby doll to their chest, even those with mental disabilities knew love when they felt it in their hands. Others held their's by an arm or leg and swayed it in the air above their heads...pure joy. It didn't matter if they were crawling along the cement floor, tied down to a wheelchair, or sitting on a wooden bench, their responses were the same. Joy. Delight. Love received. Thank you good friends whose hands sewn each stitch. Good and faithful servants.
After leaving a cash gift for food and medicine, we left the complex with heavy hearts. Cooley had tears in his eyes. Others were in complete shock. Jerry had to go outside after about a half an hour. He said it was just too much. "It always is, mom" he said. He's been coming for 10 years now. I can't imagine. The newbies had no idea children live this way. Jaime cared for them all like a pro. This was her second trip. I am glad we had an opportunity to love them today. This was my purpose. I was born for this day. Thank you Jesus for entrusting your precious very own to my loving arms. I told James he was Jesus' favorite. I meant it.
(pause...)
We headed back through the market place to hire a boat on the ocean's shore. God blessed our broken hearts with the most beautiful views of his ocean and shoreline, rock formations and billowing clouds. The water's color was somewhere between cerulean blue and and caribbean blue. It was crystal clear to the sand below. It was cool and refreshing as I dipped my hand over the edge wave after wave, pouring the refreshment over my arms, forehead and neck. God is so very good.
Quickly we arrived at Caille Coq were Jerry built his first church from ground up years ago. Pastor Pierre gave us a tour of the inside of the church. It had come a long way since laying the foundation. I asked Pastor if I could climb the steps into the tall "Wesley" pulpit several feet above the invisible congregation. He smiled and said "wi!" So I did. What fun!
We also played school in one of the many Methodist school huts around the church. It had a chalkboard and several wooden bench style desks. I pretended to teach the rest of the team some French already written on the board, as they sat at the desks. A young student peeking in through the thatched walls corrected me when I miss-pronounced a word. Obviously they are educating their children well here!
Soon we returned to the boat, as dark would soon arrive. Another deliscious meal. Another evening of language lessons, coloring books, and friends gathered. Another good night's rest after a good long day. Good night James. Jesus loves you...and so do I. Amen.
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