I awoke this morning to the sounds of Haiti I've come to love.  Even before I opened my eyes I could hear the familiar cadence of the Nannies laughing and jesting back and forth in low, strong voices, mixed with the tones of the timouns (children) eager for breakfast and attention.  Then I opened my eyes to see the bright morning sun filtering through the palm fronds just outside our window. 

There is a gentle bustle that fills this place most of the day and evening.  Only late after dark is it really quiet, but even then there is the occasional bawl of a distant cow or eager rooster, and the never ending chorus of crickets and tree frogs.

How do I best describe the beauty and delight of this place, a home to both complete poverty and unmatched richness?  How can I express the pleasure of a slight movement of breeze over sweat-stained skin, the little leap of joy to watch a giant hummingbird flit through giant blossoms or the quick dart of an impossibly green lizzard, the generous laughter of workers in greeting across the yard, and the spark of laughter in the eyes of children?  I take pleasure in the shade of the sprawling mango tree, the worshipful singing of the Nannies both scheduled and spontaneous, the passion that springs from the heart of the staff, the booms of thunder that somehow seem louder than any I've heard at home...

Of course my feelings are bent toward the sentimental, and it may seem like I am glossing over the grinding poverty that grips most of the people who live in and around the compound.  We are insulated by the gates that surround this priviledged community, but a walk in the countryside doesn't lessen the experience of joy.  The local people greet us with the singsong bonswahhh (good afternoon) of the afternoon and smile at the children we lead.  Those with shreds of clothing and emaciated limbs cast no observable eye of judgement as we approach well dressed and over-fed.  The lack of material and physical well-being is pervasive, but no less the joy and determination to live well.  So often we see people with nothing but God, praising, loving, and serving him in thier day to day walk.

It seems a paradox to have beauty and pain so closely intertwined, but perhaps this is what the Bible means when James says, "Has God not chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom he promised those who love him?"  and " the  brother in humble circumstances ought to take pride in his high position."

We have so much to learn from our brothers and sister who are truly poor, but rich.

Christina