It was mid-summer 1981. In the midst of our six week stay in Haiti we had two or three days off where the team was able to go to Roi Christophe Hotel in Cap-Haitien for an afternoon.  Christophe’s is still a favorite of mine. At one time it was Napoleon Bonaparte’s sister’s home. It’s quaint. As one Canadian girl put it, “it’s rotic!” I was confused so she explained,”it’s romantic without the man!”. We were able to hang out and act like tourists. We enjoyed  burgers, pomme frites and ice cold Cokes poolside. It was a slice of heaven in Haiti.

I found myself in a poolside chat with a fellow American who lived in a boat off shore. He said he was providing much needed jobs for Haitians. I had already discovered while many people may not always be “pro-Christian”, when they find out that you are there constructing a nutrition center to feed 500 malnourished children a day, well, their tune changes.  Such was not the case with this gentleman. I will never forget what he said to me. He told me I was compounding the problem. By feeding those that were weak and vulnerable I was keeping them from perishing. And not only that, this would sustain them such that they would grow up and have children making matters even worse. I was stunned. I responded by saying I would one day give account of my life to my creator and specifically what I did for those who were not in a position to help themselves. The conversation ended.

Fast forward to January 2020. We were serving in Milot and I wanted to show some of the team members around the Bon Berger Mission. This of course is where I met Christian, where he originally lived and also where he is now the second in command in the ministry. Though he wasn’t present I was able to give a brief tour pointing out buildings that our loved ones had helped build back in the ‘80’s and ‘90’s. Serendipitously a Haitian man approached me. He seemed familiar. He introduced himself as Guy (hard G, long E). His English was impeccable. I introduced myself. He smiled and nodded indicating he knew me. He said he knew I was Christian’s papa. We chatted a bit. And then he said something that I will always remember. He pointed across the interior courtyard at a building I knew well. It has many uses today but back in 1981 it was the home for the orphans. Then he told me that it all started there for him and for Christian and for Jacquelin, New Hope’s on field director. I once again was stunned. I knew they were all connected but I only knew that Christian lived in the orphanage.

This erudite young man who is now the principal of the Bon Berger school walked me through some details. He is 49. Jacquelin is 50. Christian is 51. This meant so many things. It meant in 1981 I played with all three of them. I would chase them, scare them and make them laugh. We taught them to say “Whopper beat Big Mac”. They had no idea what they were saying. It was hilarious. They nicknamed me Jean-Fuca.

But here is what moved me. These three good men were exactly who the man by the pool was talking about. They were the most vulnerable. He said let them die.

Yet here they are, leaders of their generation, kicking at the darkness in Haiti. And yes, they all have children. And all have at least one child studying here in the States. In addition I am currently working to get Christian’s daughter here to study to be a physical therapist. I have nothing but respect for these three good men. I am a better person for knowing them. I don’t know that I teared up that day with Guy. But I am now.