Haiti on My Heart

On Monday, I wrote a story about a 23-year-old Haitian girl named Kensia. On Tuesday, Kensia’s life changed forever. I’ve never met her and probably never will this side of heaven. I have no idea how the earthquake affected her or if she’s even alive. But I know how her story affected me. It was one of many stories of Haitian children that has burrowed into my heart.

In my freelance work for Compassion International, I get to tell the stories of children being released from poverty all over the world. But it’s the stories from Haiti that I remember most. Maybe it’s because it’s not on the other side of the world. Or because one of my best friends has two children adopted from Haiti. Or maybe it’s just because they seem to face more hardship and catastrophe than just about any other place on earth, yet their children always seem to be smiling.

Because Compassion has been in Haiti since 1968 and has a Leadership Develop Program for college students there, many of the stories I work on are not about children but about driven young adults who don’t seem to see the Haiti the rest of the world sees. Kensia, a medical student, talked about her country one day becoming a world leader and champion of struggling nations everywhere.

Daniel, a 25-year-old with six sisters from five different mothers, grew up in one of Haiti’s most violent slums. He became president of his Compassion project as a teenager and now studies finance at a prestigious university. Gislene moved four hours from her impoverished hometown to study nursing in Port-au-Prince. Her biggest dream is to be able to support at least three Compassion kids of her own some day.

And then there’s six-year-old Lovena, who was chosen by a group of 70 college students in the Dominican Republic. They pooled their money to sponsor a Haitian child, slicing through the social and political conflicts that have divided the two nations for more than a century. I can just imagine those students today on their knees praying for their little girl.

I don’t know if these stories ever get read or make any difference in busy people's lives. But I know how they change me. I know how they put flesh on the words of James 1:27: “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress.” Today in Haiti there are probably more orphans and widows than ever before. One day I will get to tell their stories, and no doubt I will be amazed again by their hope and strength—and their ceaseless praise of the God who sees them through every tragedy.