Thursday, November 15, 2012

Learning


Saying I am lonely at times is an ironic statement because Iam never actually alone. I constantly have 40+ kids in my company. I have madedeepening friendships with the staff on campus (although my Creole still has aways to go).  There are living thingseverywhere. I have found myself negotiating out loud with Haiti’s circle oflife. I kindly ask the spiders to eat the mosquitoes and in exchange I willspare their eight legged lives. I shower daily with a surprisingly cute baby lizardthat lives next to, and sometimes under, my bleach bottle. So, I’m not exactlyalone.

 Nonetheless my weeklyskype sessions with loved ones are times I cherish. About a week ago, I was gettingready for my long distance skype date. I was so excited that I managed to brushmy hair out and splash on some mascara. The kids were in my room watching my preparations.I was actually “early” for my date something he’ll tell you rarely happens inperson. With some time to kill I exited my room for the 10 minute break. After,I headed back to my room and reached for my door knob. LOCKED. The key was inmy room. I was only gone for a few minutes and didn’t lock it. Realizing thatone of the kids was probably helping me out and locked it for me, I decided Iwouldn’t panic just yet. I’ve watched as some of the boys, with their impromptutools, have popped a lock in 30 seconds flat. I called them over and watched asthey took their various “tools” and tried to get my door unlocked to no avail.AWESOME.

Slowly the inevitable happened. I realized I was hot,frustrated and disappointed. I watched the sun creep behind the mountainscalculating the 5 hour time difference in my head. It would be past hisbedtime. I went to get some air in the darkness outside. Enjoying the emotionalrelease of my own little pity party, one of the youngest girls came and satnext to me. We had a short exchange in Creole after which she commanded I closemy eyes. What happened next was one of the sweetest things I’ve witnessed. Outof her 6 year old mouth came one of the most sympathetic prayers I’ve heard ina while. “Jezi, Jezi, souple Jezi, Jaclynn bezwen l’ kle.” I squinted my eyesopen to see her head waving back and forth, hands gripped tightly, eyessqueezed shut. She was praying for me. In my frustration I forgot that I couldpray. As a young child, I often thought that I could only pray about the bigstuff. I figured there was some type of prayer quota I was allotted at birth. Icouldn’t waste prayers on little things. After all, God has bigger fish to fry namelyworld peace, poverty and hunger. My little mind couldn’t wrap itself around theidea that I could bring anything and everything to Him. Often, it still can’t.  I’m learning that it’s about being in constantcommunication with Him. The good, bad, and ugly. Sometimes it takes a 6 sixyear with her “little” mind and BIG heart to remind me of that.

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