As we step out of the tap tap, my view changes. The view to the right is completely opposite of that beautiful church. I witness a young boy, probably 10 to 12 years old, digging a ditch. I attempt to hold back the astonishment as I picture my own 10 year old in his place, swinging a very heavy pick-axe to break the ground. Where will this ditch lead? What is it for? Is it necissary or just punishment? These questions remain unanswered to this day.
We are briefed on the situation as we wait for "Pastor" to come out. We are told that this is a very corrupt Haitian run orphanage which our team has been informed of. This is not the first trip here. Members of our group have been here three times before. We have attempted to provide help, training, and mentoring in hopes to improve the situation, but nothing has changed. Therefore, today our mission is essential. We are entering as a tourist group interested in the orphanage when in all actuality we are there to take as many pictures as possible. "Take pictures of EVERYTHING," we are told. Our leader then instructs us, "Smile. You will want to cry but don't. Hold it in. Smile at these children. Show them love through your face. Their lives are miserable enough. They don't need you to show them." That was the extent of our instruction-take pictures and smile.
Pastor then arrives and speaks briefly. I will not even waste your time with his words because they were all lies. He then gladly opens the gate to the right of the beautiful church. My life will never be the same after seeing first hand what was behind that gate.
The stench was something indescribable. A mixture of feces, urine, and stale hot Haitian air.
To my right was a group of "adults" ages 16-mid twenties. They were huddled together. Obviously scared but working very hard to show joy and casualness as we entered the gates.
In front of me was a large wooden box similar to a backyard shed here in Oklahoma. About 30 young girls sat on benches in a square in front of the box. We are then told that we will visit with the boys first.
A bit to the right of the girls is another box. About 25 boys aged probably four to ten are stationed on their benches. Pastor excitedly speaks to them in creole and the boys begin to sing. I know they are singing a worship song because I hear certain words I know: Jesus, joy, heaven. I heard the words come out of their mouth but could only concentrate on what I saw. I saw empty eyes. They looked at me as they sang of our heavenly father but it was obvious they had never experienced His love. Their eyes looked right through me. I wondered how many times visitors had come and how many times they had sang these songs-hoping for a savior, if they even knew what that was.
Their legs were sticks of bones with skin stretched ever so tightly around them. Their bellies were distended-full of worms and parasites that were stripping their bodies of the very minimal nutrients that they rarely received. I looked at their beautiful faces. Chocolate brown with white salt streaks down each cheek, remnants of tears they had cried. Tears that were now dry. Tears that yielded nothing. Now empty.
Our leader then wanted to take a moment and show us the living conditions for these children. Behind Pastor was the box. He gladly unlocked the padlock that secured the "room". As I stepped inside, my heart raced and my breathing stiffened. I saw bunk bed, three high, around the perimeter of the room. By the door was a shelf of clothing-dirty, waded up, torn clothing. The smell was very distinct. It was that of urine, obviously from the soaked, uncovered foam mattresses that were placed on the bed frames. I couldn't stay in that box any longer. I quickly exited.
We were then ushered to the back of the compound while Pastor was "entertained" by our leader. We were quite obviously entering an area that was not seen by other visitors. We carefully stepped inside a make-shift lean to. Underneath the metal covering was a tent. A camping tent-covered with dust and dirt. We carefully unzipped the door and peaked inside. No mattress. No blankets. No clothing. Nothing but a pile of dirty, damp cloths possibly used to mop up the water that entered the tent when in rained. There were two of these tents surrounded by empty bottles, shards of glass, broken chairs, pieces of metal-essentially in the midst a pile of trash.
We walked around the perimeter of the compound, very carefully watching were stepped. Careful of trash that could cut us, careful of piles of feces which could possibly carry Cholera or other deadly diseases. We pray as we walk. "Lord, these are your precious gifts to this world. We know you have a plan for each and every one of these children. They are kings and queens. Lord, help us to know what to do. Help us to be your skin. Help us to live our lives as you."
We then find ourselves back at the front of the compound with the girls. Same situation as the boys yet they lack the energy to even greet us in song. They simply sit there with empty, blank expressions. Their living conditions were even worse than the boys. The bunks were falling apart. How could all of these girls ever fit into this room, this box?
We didn't stay long. We had our pictures-our proof.
While this story is horrendous, the tides are beginning to turn for many of these children. With the help of many of my dear friends, this "orphanage" is being shut down. While some of these children are now happily running in heaven with full bellies and eyes now filled with joy, some have been returned to extended family members who didn't even know they existed. The remainder of the children have been moved to a new orphanage. The Justice Rescue House is now home to about 25 of the children, aged four to a pregnant 16 year-old. They have been rescued yet have so far to come.
We will never know the hell that they lived through. We will never be able to comprehend what they encountered on a day to day basis. What we can do is help to change their future.
Paul and I have an incredible opportunity in just a few months. The two of us will be traveling to Haiti yet again. This time our mission is to spend time with these kings and queens. We don't know exactly what we will be doing. At this point, we don't know we will need to take. We are spending time in prayer with our Heavenly Father and in correspondence with our friends in Haiti.
We do need your help! We need funding. Could you help? Whether you can spare $5 or $500, we would greatly appreciate your donation. While a very small portion of the money will be used for travel, the majority will be used to better the lives of these rescued children.
It is so simple to help us out. Simply paypal your donation to email address iluvkiddos@hotmail.com. If you cannot paypal, please email me and I will send you my mailing address for a check.
Thank you in advance and I look forward to giving a beautifully positive redemption story on behalf of these children.
For an insider's view as to the situation, please read this article by one of the blessings instrumental in the rescue of these children: Set Apart Girl article. The article starts on page 66.
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