m'avo Ayiti

Well I can say it has been too long since I last wrote to my adoring fans (I'm sure you all have been dying to hear from me!)  eskize'm sivouple,  due to a poor internet connection at the Orphanage, and the following of kids I had asking to use their facebook, I did not have the time to write on here.  So now I will do a little back tracking to cover my steps over the past several weeks.  

Kristen and I stepped off of the plane in Port-Au-Prince to a balmy 95 degrees, typical of the Caribbean country, and as I breathed in the hot stuffy air, the aroma of burning trash smoke, and dust filled my nose.  I was in one of my homes, and this made me happy. Mwen kontann.  To most this sort of welcome would invoke feelings of dread, and leave most wondering what they have gotten themselves in to, but for Kristen and I we breathed deep dust filled sighs of relief and moved towards customs anxious with anticipation wondering who would be waiting to greet us in the parking lot.  

A question I most frequently get asked when talking about Haiti is "Why?  Why Haiti?"  and up until a few weeks ago I could never fully answer that question with a response that satisfied me, or the person asking. But then at the moment and place I least expected, the words to explain my desire flowed from a mans lips I had never met.  And those words had been relayed in a circular pattern, and quoted from the man who's funeral I was currently attending.  

So here is a Journal entry I wrote dated April 16th, which was the day after my brother had had is first baby, and the day of the funeral of Papa Ernst Cassey.  

Today I mourn the death of a man with a thousand children, and celebrate the new life of Wyatt my brothers first son.  

Papa Cassey left behind so many children that will never forget him.  Being able to attend his funeral was a blessing and a way to show all of us how great a human being can really be.  Compassion flowed through this man and his beliefs and faith will forever be represented through all of the wonderful children who had the privilege to call him Papa.  

At the funeral a man from the states had a chance to speak and he summed up perfectly what I have never been able to explain about my coming to Haiti.  This man was able to explain what I never could put in to words.  He told us about the first time he met Papa Cassey and how Cassey told him "When you come to Haiti, your heart becomes broken, and you will forever keep coming back to look for the other half."  When I heard this I cried for the man I had barely known but heard so many good things about.  I cried in gratitude for the brilliant words that the poor old man could never have expressed to me in person, and I thanked the lord for giving the world such a humble and giving man to so many who needed him.  

Now all I can do is pray that someone equally giving and caring will step up to take Papa Cassey's place because lord only knows all of those kids are suffering physically, emotionally, and spiritually with out a constant presence that assures them they are loved.