And, I am thankful for those who do… sometimes. Okay, so before I get started let me just say that I’m not one for trying to catch everybody up on everything. It just takes too much time, isn’t usually worth the effort, and often isn’t as good to hear when it is redundant. So, rather than try to bring everyone up to date… not that anyone would be all that interested… I’m just going to pick up with thoughts of today.
Well, in some way I guess I am going back a step or two, but I’m still smirking over the look on a nurse’s face. You see, some time back a nurse walked into the hospital room to announce that “a gentleman” was there to see me. I could tell from the way she said “a gentleman” as she rolled her eyes that she wasn’t exactly sure if she should let him in or not. And, I could tell that she had no intentions of letting him into the room to introduce himself.
I have to admit that my curiosity was peaked. Now, I don’t want to offend anyone but my first thought was that the “gentleman” was a preacher. For those of you who have not spent any time in the hospital environment let me just say that preachers ramble the halls looking for someone to save just like the lawyers who chased the ambulance all the way to the hospital. And, when you are in the hospital most often you really aren’t up to listening to either. Oops… there I go rambling off again.
Well, I got up and walked out into the hallway. And, there stood a dear friend. We hugged as the entire west wing 9th floor hospital staff stared.
Okay, so here’s the thing. My friend… I’m old enough to be his mother… had been living in Haiti for several months, almost a year. He had heard that my husband was in the hospital from a mutual friend who had arrived in Haiti. Immediately, Jeff had caught a flight back to the states to check on us. He didn’t take time to clean up, let’s just say. But, then again… he is a rather eccentric and very creative potter.
Admittedly, my dear friend has a different drummer he marches with but he does stay in step… at least, his own steps.
Here’s what happened when he left the hospital room. The nurse rushed in, still looking down the hallway as my friend left. “Is everything okay?” she inquired.
“Oh, yes.” That was the reply.
The nurse lingered a bit. I knew she wanted to ask what in the world was up with the “gentleman.” So, needless to say, I offered nothing for her to latch onto. In fact, it took about three trips to “check on” us before she brought up the visit.
She began, “I wasn’t sure you would know the gentleman….”
“Oh, yes. He is one of my best friends.”
She lingered. I continued to read a book. Okay… so now you know that I can be a bit obstinate.
Finally, a couple of afternoons later one of the doctors was in and mentioned that he had heard that Jeff had visited us. The nurse was eager to hear more. She had never offered to clean the sink before.
Anyway, some time later I decided to break the silence. Jeff had called and was coming back for a short visit before he left for Haiti.
Here’s the thing. The nurse had “assumed” a lot about my friend based on his appearance. Honestly, it had taken me a few minutes to figure it out… her hesitation when he first appeared.
My friend had lived in Haiti for a few years, had returned to the country and then gone back to Haiti. For those who are not familiar with Haiti let me just say that it is the poorest country in our hemisphere. Corruption has ruled longer than anything else. The people are so poor that they have to cut trees to make charcoal to cook a meal. Of course, for those who haven’t visited Haiti food is in quite short supply. Dirt cookies are a delicacy that are baked in the sunshine and sold on the streets. The children love them… and they are filling.
The country if almost 99% deforested. Water is a luxury. Yes, in a country that is surrounded by water on three sides it is remarkable that there is no clean drinking water in most of the country. It is most surprising for the naive to see the people dipping drinking water from the same river where others are bathing or washing their clothes. The river is also the community bathroom.
Children are sold into slavery although it isn’t called that. Poor mothers often “trade” their children to families who can afford to feed them for a little bit of food for those left at home. The traded children are then taken to their new homes and used to clean the house and do all the work. For those who have watched the PBS expose, you are aware that children… little girls… are sold for as little as $10 to men who wish to buy the child. I won’t go into more explicit details.
Of course, there is so much more to tell about Haiti, but I will save it for tomorrow or another day. But, my dear friend goes to Haiti, lives there, sleeping on dirt floors with chickens and the occasional pig in the same room. He works with artisans in Haiti to help them earn an income. He works with Fair Trade groups to help those who create art get a fair price for their work so they can feed their families.
Let me just say that this tattered book cover of a friend has more goodness in his heart and on his pages than most of us will ever have. And, yes… at times I am a bit envious of his adventurous life. But, like most of us I am not quite sure I would ever have been willing to live without running water or to go several days without any real food that isn’t spoiled. I don’t much care for dirt cookies. And, I’m not brave enough to volunteer to live in a country that is constantly patrolled by soldiers sent by the UN to try to maintain peace. And, I’m not giving enough to offer my life to help those who need it. Like most of us I watch the “Save the Children” commercials and think about sending a few dollars a month.
In truth, my dear friend is the person we all wish we could be. I am thankful for knowing him and for the impact he has had on my life. And, I am thankful that I didn’t judge the book by its cover before I read a few pages from the book.
