Lesson #1 from Haiti...

As we worked in the village of Boudet in Criox-des-Bouquet, Haiti, the girls of the group decided to wander into the field to take some pictures. Amy Jo, Estania, Morgan, and I chatted excitedly as we walked toward the tall grass with the beautiful mountainous backdrop. As we jumped and posed (with Ben watching from the house, since he wouldn't let us out of his sight), some Haitian boys wandered up. We began to speak to them, but little was understood between the group since we spoke very little Creole. We learned names and that was about it.

Then, a young boy wandered up to us.

"I speak English," he said. I think we literally jumped up and down at that point! We learned that he was 12 years old and attended a Christian school that taught English. As we chatted with him about his life and family, we tried to include the other boys in the conversation.

"Mwen grangou!" The oldest Haitian looked at us with frustration because we didn't understand what he said. I turned to Dieney, our new English-speaking Haitian friend, and asked what this man had said.

"He say he hungry," Dieney explained. The other three girls and I looked at each other, not knowing what to say. We knew we had some food in our backpack, but we also knew how carefully we had rationed our food for the week since we had decided to bring all of our own food and water to avoid any chance of getting cholera.

"We've got some candy!" Morgan piped up. "I'll be right back!" Morgan returned a few minutes later and passed out tootsie rolls to the five boys standing in front of us.

"Merci," they all replied. They devoured the candy in a matter of seconds, and the oldest one who had spoken of his hunger first said something else in Creole.

"What did he say this time?" we asked Dieney.

"He say this is the first food he ate all day," Dieney replied.

We hung our heads in sadness and shame.

"Maybe we can give them our peanut butter and crackers," Morgan suggested. She hurried back to the house to see what Ben thought about that idea. She returned a few minutes later with the food in her hands. The Haitians' eyes lit up at the sight of the simple snack we had brought.

"Merci!" We heard the word over and over as they divided the crackers among themselves. Morgan tried to explain to them that they could put the peanut butter on the crackers, but Dieney explained that their hands were dirty. After running to the house one more time, Morgan returned with some hand sanitizer. The boys all washed their hands and began to dip the crackers in the peanut butter. No one hogged it. No one pushed to get more. No one yelled. They quietly shared the snack and continually repeated the Creole word for thank you...Merci.

I thought about all the times my kids have fought over snacks--everyone wanting the last bite, the biggest half, the best snack. In front of me stood five boys who probably rarely had three meals a day (maybe not even one!), and they shared like they had a gourmet meal waiting at home. As Americans, our "stuff" has made us a greedy nation. The more we get, the more we want. It made me sick to realize I have contributed this attitude in my own kids. "Stuff" isn't the answer. I saw proof of that in Haiti. The people there have absolutely nothing, but they are still happy. Joy radiates from their faces...a joy that can only come from the Lord. If I could somehow train my kids to base their happiness on that inner joy rather than the outer "stuff", I believe my family would be much more content. The problem with this is that I don't always have that joy in my own life, so how can I pass it on to them? I'll never get it perfect as long as I live in this world, but I will be praying for that joy on a daily basis now. 

"Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content." Phil. 4:11

"Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit..." Romans 15:13