Day 6: Post 2 of 2 - For each child that's born

Thoughts from Laura

There is music in the distance as I sit on the Big Thoughts front porch tonight.  In the van today, Carla wondered whether it might be more aptly named the Big Hearts front porch...and I think I agree with her.  When we have our evening reflection circles here on the porch, the love and hope and compassion in this circle is astounding.  I have to imagine that the energy of our collective Big Hearts is rippling out to the rest of MPP, to Haiti, and to the world.

The Big Heart front porch
Photo credit: Kevin

I held a 6-week-old beautiful baby today named Emmanuel -- "a gift from God," his mother said.  As the Sweet Honey in the Rock song goes:

For each child that's born,

a morning star rises and sings

to the universe who we are. 

Like all babies, Emmanuel holds immense promise.  Like all mothers, Emmanuel's mother was so proud to share her son with the world.  She came and handed him to us -- the white strangers -- as comfortably as though we were his aunts and uncles.  Like all babies, Emmanuel smelled sweet, and his tiny body snuggled against mine as his eyes closed.

We are our grandmother's prayers

we are our grandfather's dreamings

we are the breath of our ancestors

we are the spirit of God.

After Liz held young Emmanuel, she looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, "what wouldn't you give to see that he grows up healthy and safe?"  I could only nod.  Yes.

We are mothers of courage

fathers of time,

daughters of dust

sons of great visions,

we are sisters of mercy

brothers of love

lovers of life and the builders of nations.

Like all babies, Emmanuel knows nothing of the world he has been born into.  He cries the same universal cries of hunger and discomfort, and makes the same baby coos and noises that all babies make.  He is loved, and tended to, and cared for by his mother to the best of her ability.  He is known to be a gift from God, and one only need look into his eyes to know this to be truth.  At 6 weeks old, Emmanuel's world is still coming into focus.  What will he come to know as his vision clears?

We are seekers of truth

and keepers of faith

makers of peace

and the wisdom of ages.

And Emmanuel is also the youngest of 6 children in a Haitian family who survived the earthquake and is starting over.  If his family stays at MPP, he will grow up in a house with 4 walls and a roof - and this is a blessing.  He may or may not have enough food.  He may or may not have clean drinking water.  He may or may not get an education, and if he does, he may or may not go past the third grade.  He does not currently have electricity in his home or in his village.  His family does not currently have enough food.  His family does not currently have clean drinking water.  By luck of the draw, Emmanuel was born here, to Haitian peasants, 5 years after the earthquake.  By that same stroke of luck, he was born to one of the 500 applicants who managed to get a place in one of the MPP villages.  This is -- I believe -- a blessing. 

We are our grandmother's prayers

and we are our grandfather's dreamings

we are the breath of our ancestors

we are the spirit of God.

The school today was full of beautiful children.  In the afternoons, we drive by children in uniforms walking home along the pothole-ridden, unpaved, rut-filled roads.  I watched the clouds of dust from the passing cars and motorcycles engulf them.  I watched big brothers - who couldn't have been more than 9 - walking with their arms around their younger sisters.  Who knows how long and far they walk?  I've seen children managing donkeys and bulls with more gumption than I would have.  I've seen them playing with metal hoops and sticks: a universal toy.  I've seen them carrying jugs of dirty water in their hands and on their heads, bathing naked in the river, tending to a fire, and playing soccer.

Haitian children are as children are everywhere -- and this work that is being done -- all of this -- is for them.  The work being done now will not benefit this generation of Haitians.  Everything that is being done is to create a better life, a better country, a better world for the children.  The families in the villages are pioneers setting out in a land plagued by drought, and a harshness I could never understand.   They are living in a land where only 2% of its forests remain, and so they plant trees.  They learn sustainable farming methods.  They begin again, if only because they have to.  Perhaps that's why there is hope here: where there are children, there is hope.

We are mothers of courage

fathers of time

we are daughters of dust

and sons of great vision...

There was a mother with her older, perhaps teenage, daughter at the village, too.  Her mother had a far-away look in her eyes that I am coming to see in so many Haitians.  Her daughter held her hand as they walked, and leaned against her bashfully, as though they may be pulled apart forever if contact were to be lost. 

There was another mother with two children -- perhaps 2 and 4 years old -- who appeared quite ill.  The two-year-old, who wore only an Elmo shirt, tugged on his mother and whined, attempting to get her to look at him.  She sat with her head in her hands, unmoving.

...we are sisters of mercy

brothers of love

we're lovers of life and the builders of nations

we're seekers of truth and keepers of faith

makers of peace and the wisdom of ages.

At the school today, the director said, "if you know doctors who can come and treat the children's physical and emotional health, tell them to come."  Tonight, I asked Chavanne what is being done to address the children's mental health.  "We are concerned with the mental health of all people in the villages," he told me.  "The children and the adults."  Although there was support immediately following the earthquake, and people were trained in trauma and stress reduction techniques, there is no ongoing support. 

We are our grandmother's prayers

and we are our grandfather's dreamings

we are the breath of our ancestors

we are the spirit of God.

Rob and baby Emmanuel

I do not know the life Emmanuel will have, but I know he is the hope for the future.  The light shines bright in his eyes that are just beginning to see the world.  Like mothers everywhere, his mother loves him with all her heart.  Her life is dedicated to the betterment of the world for his future.  Like mothers everywhere, he brings her hope.  Like children everywhere, Emmanuel sleeps in the security and comfort of her arms, unaware of the world he has been born into.  She breathes in his sweetness and blesses his head with kisses.  He is innocence, and love, and hope embodied. He is her gift from God.

For each child that's born

a morning star rises and sings

to the universe who we are.