Haitian Home for Sick and Dying Infants – Wednesday, May 21st,
2014
Today part of our Bell Timber Group went to the home for
sick and dying infants. I was surprised
by two things from today’s visit; first, that so many of our group wanted to
participate in this opportunity and second, that it was one of the easier
things we have seen so far. I had said
from the start that I wanted to do this, but a huge part of me was very
concerned about how difficult this service would be. When we arrived in the
tap-tap there is already a line outside of women, some waiting to get in to see
the child inside and some with children in their arms waiting to see if their
child can get the care he or she may need.
You can see the despair on their faces.
One of our interpreters/security experts goes to the door to knock and
you can see all of them trying to see if they can enter with us. It was hard to walk by the line of women and
not allow them entrance to see their own children. Once the nun lets you in, you walk down into
place that seems to be at odds with the sights surrounding it: white, clean,
quiet, well organized, and calm – shutting out the chaos of the world that
really exists. Your heart races a little
and you begin to prepare yourself for what you are about to see. After walking thru a small examination room
you enter a courtyard were there are mothers sitting in a row visiting with
their children. You then walk into the
first ward were there is row after row of small cribs most with an infant just
waiting to be held. You are not sure
which one to start with until you just seem to eventually grab one. They are sweet and very loving, the truth is
all the service is going to your own heart.
The feeling of total unconditional surrender to them is all you can
do. After the first ward you can enter
the area where there are more ill and fragile infants (some with IVs). This is where the tears you have been
fighting can no longer be contained. The
little weak faces and sweet eyes are hard to resist. You must stay in the ward with these
children, it is hot and the air weighs about 20 pounds. None of it matters – you are in bliss, the
rest of the world washes away and all that exists are you and that wonderful
blessing in your arms. At the end of the
row there is a very sweet little boy who is quietly weeping for someone to hold
him. Jeremiah comes in and I direct him
to the crying boy. He scoops him up and
immediately the crying stops, all is well and right with the world for this
young soul. After quite a while Jeremiah
was going to move on to hold another infant and this first little boy was NOT
happy about it.
