On precious life in Haiti

The precious girl is Shidelene Erilien and her photo is taped, front and center, on our refrigerator. In February of last year I learned that this young Haitian lives in one of the poorest nations in the world.

Precious girl, This morning I learned about the earthquake and I want you to know that I am thinking about you. Along with my husband, I am asking God to keep you safe and fed. We are praying that your school is still open and you can continue your education there. We hope you are near people who you can talk to and who can give you lots of hugs when you want them. We know this is a frightening experience and you are worried about many things. God is near you and He will demonstrate His love for you each time someone helps you. We send our love and hope to learn how you are doing in the future. We are praying for you, your family, and your friends.

Love, Joan (your sponsor mom)

The precious girl is Shidelene Erilien and her photo is taped, front and center, on our refrigerator. In February of last year I learned that this young Haitian lives in one of the poorest nations in the world. A modest monthly donation through Compassion International funds Bible teaching, health screenings, recreational activities, social events, school books and a uniform for her.

I truly hope my message, e-mailed Wednesday morning, reaches her someday.

It’s evident considerable effort was made to ready Shidelene for her picture. Her hair is carefully braided and she wears perfectly white shoes. Her school uniform is clean and slightly oversized, probably allowing for a year’s growth. Her glaringly slender frame gives quiet evidence to a life of physical labor that includes daily water hauling and cleaning.

What is startling is the way this photo captures her obvious discomfort in front of the camera. There is not a hint of a smile. She is probably wondering who in the world will be given the photo.

Located 90 miles off the coast of Florida, Shidelene’s homeland occupies the western third of the island of Hispaniola in the Caribbean. Weather conditions vary, as does the terrain. Farming is possible on merely one-third of the land.

One of the most densely populated and poorest of any country worldwide, most Haitians live in mud and thatch homes and subsist on small plots of land they garden. Long before this terrible disaster schools, government, police and medical services were broken, plagued historically by political violence. The current president is Rene Garcia Preval and with the presidential palace and his won private residence in ruins, he, too, has no place to lay his head and no backup plan of his own.

Shidelene lives with her mother, father and three siblings in the town of Boy-Roi, located north of Gros-Morne. With the epicenter about 100 miles south, it is my hope she is not experiencing the devastation her countrymen are coping with in the capital. Perhaps in her rural setting her parents can continue to provide her normal diet of maize, beans, bananas, bread, plantains and goat.

On a good day people in Shidelene’s community deal with untreated coughs, fever, and diarrhea. Most of the 15,000 adults are unemployed. Those who do have regular jobs make the equivalent of $25 a month.

During these horrendous days following the 7.0 earthquake, their suffering is immeasurable. And even though Haitians pride themselves for being survivors of frequent hurricanes and hardiness is part of their national identity, estimates that the nation may lose upwards of 100,000 citizens is too great to take in for most of us attempting to process such information.

So let’s pray. Remember Shidelene. Remember the Rev. Toby Nelson. During my teen years he was my youth pastor. Today he serves as chaplain of a federal disaster medical assistance team who left Wednesday for Haiti. Like he did in New York in 2001 and most recently in New Orleans following Hurricane Katrina, Toby and others like him will live out the promise that the cross offers people hope to overcome and assurance that God is with us.