Wednesday

Wednesday, November 15

It is a rainy, drizzly day and the grey coolness descends all around.  It is a joy to watch the school children bounce happily together.  There is a group of four dressed in grey jumpers with yellow blouses and bows, the youngest in all yellow, bright against the muted background of the day. They hold hands in a line as they run and pull each other along, so close to the road’s edge, seemingly unaware of the busy street.

We are just entering St. Marc, not far from the guest house, when we receive word that there is a protest of some kind near the church where we hold clinic.  In favor of safety, the decision is made to turn back and cancel clinic. Our day is now unscripted so we gather for devotions and song.

I choose another Lauren Daigle song:  Salt and Light.  In Matthew 4:33, Jesus calls us salt and light.  Salt has many uses.  It flavors our world, it preserves, it heals.  Light brings clarity and detail and pushes out the fear of the dark, thus revealing our path.  I find it clever that the song calls Jesus the salt and light since Jesus calls us the salt and light.  It is, of course, perfectly right. He is our salt and light first so that we may be salt and light for others.

We sit and talk with our host, Paul.  He is a Haitian man who manages the guest house.  He lives up the hill with his wife and son.  His ministry is called Magic Beans.  He has two homes for foster kids; a school; a soccer boys team; a shoe distribution ministry; a sewing ministry for women who then sell their handiwork; a get a goat give a goat program and a feeding ministry for neighborhood children, to only name those aspects I can remember.

Paul invites us to visit the feeding program: Feeding Hope.  The school children go here after school for a meal before going home.  It is a half block from our guest house.  It is a cinder block building with a large covered porch with rows of tables.  When we turn in from the street, we are at once greeted with the glee of 200 children from 3-17.  I find my place on the empty end of a full bench of darlings.  The children all reach for me and giggle.  We soon start singing and clapping.   Baz, m interpreter stands among us and leads us in animated song.  The room erupts with excitement as we rock and sway, clap and sing.  I make up my own words and join the exuberance.  This what I am made for is the song I sing.

We are given a tour of the kitchen.  There is a shelf lining three walls and filled with plates of rice and beans. In the back, we see boxes of Manna packs from Feed My Starving Children.  Paul receives 121 boxes a month.  I think of the Corona High School Choir and consider how these might be the boxes they packed.

The children follow us back to the guest house for an afternoon impromptu clinic.  Hand in hand, I walk with a tiny three year old fancy girl who happily escorts me.   We set up clinic on the small porch where we have dinner.  It is crowded and noisy but taking care of kids is my passion and I love every minute.