I woke up this morning to the news that a teenage boy we’d tried to help had died. I never met him, I just learned of his story through a Canadian doctor who I met yesterday. The boy apparently had a heart condition and needed a stint put in. A relatively easy surgery, or so I’m told, but unfortunately the hospital isn’t currently equipped to do it, and it sounds like his case was already too bad for doctors to even consider medi-vacing him to another hospital.
My heart ached when I heard his story. My mind raced to think of ways we could help, how to find a doctor who would do a pro-bono surgery. How to get the funds to pay for a medi-vac. I posted a Facebook update and had messages flood in from people I don’t even know. I’m so thankful for everyone who wanted to help.
Sadly, death is a reality here. Last week, the father of one of the babies here passed away. His battle with Aids finally took his life. From what I was told, he was a loving and caring father. I’d met him and his first wife on my first trip to Haiti. During that trip, we took her to the hospital because she had stage four Aids and was in bad shape. We prayed over her, but a week after we left, we got the news that she had died.
Life is hard here. It’s hard for a missionary and it’s especially hard for those who live and grow up here. Haitians are hardy, resilient, resourceful. The juxtaposition of the oasis that surrounds this place gets me every time. Beautiful mountains in every direction – palm trees and bright blue skies with white puffy clouds… Even more beautiful people… But look down and all you see is trash. People live in small huts put together with anything they can find. They sledge through sewage streets wearing flip flops to get to the market to buy food for the day. Luckily, for the most part people here no longer drink water from the cholera-filled river. Grace so Amazing built a well about four years ago, and it sees hundreds of people every single day. But even then – can you imagine walking miles every day just to get drinking water? Life is hard. Surviving is hard. People are hard workers and want jobs – would do anything for jobs – but jobs are hard to come by. School costs money, a lot of people here don’t have the education they need for the job they want. They don’t have the money to get the education they need. Education is a privilege, not a right. We see babies every week as part of their community program who are underweight and malnourished. One baby was too weak to nurse – he was 8 pounds and I believe 6 months old. We gave the mama formula last week, and he’s steadily gaining weight.
But the need is so great. A doctor I talked to yesterday expressed the frustrations he’s seeing at the hospital. It’s a beautiful and wonderful hospital – the best in Haiti – and paid for by Partners in Health. The doctors are top-notch, the best of the best – both Haitian and American (or Canadian). Haitian doctors go through the same training the American doctors go through, they have the same knowledge. But the resources aren’t the same. There’s no cardiac wing, there’s no way to do cardiac surgeries. Luckily, there are organizations that help children who need surgeries. But sometimes with people who have heart attacks, the best care they can get is to be given an aspirin. Or so I’m told.
It feels like every day a life or death problem pops up, and the volunteers here are stretched beyond their limits and means. But how can they ever say no? If there’s a way to help someone, to save a life, how could they ever turn someone away? Both the Americans and Haitians here often work 7 days a week, and from sun up to sun down (sometimes even before the sun comes up). And they are doing *so much good. I see the tide turning for this community, I see positive changes every time I come, and Grace So Amazing is a BIG part of that.
There’s a saying in Haiti that is “Mountains beyond mountains.” What it means is that when we solve one problem – we move one mountain – we discover other mountains, other problems. And so on and so on. To be successful here, we have to be expert problem solvers. And be willing to say yes to whatever and whoever God puts in our way. I couldn’t help the boy in the hospital. His life wasn’t mine to save. And that breaks my heart. I can’t save every person in Haiti, but I can do what I can for the person in front of me with whatever resources the Lord gives. We can’t do everything for everyone, but we can stop for the one.
