Friday, May 20, 2011

Yon Retou Pou Ayiti (A Return to Haiti)

I marched up the stairs of Wings of Hope and found the children on the patio during their Friday prayer service.  A lull of silence came over the children as they turned to observe yet another new strange volunteer in their midst. 
“Eske ou sonje mwen?”  I asked.  David looks at me and a huge grin comes across his face as the recognition sets in.  He squeals in laughter and begins to touch my hair which has grown in the past six months. 

As an adult, when you haven’t seen a friend in a few years, you commonly say, “You haven’t changed a bit!”  However, in the life of children, 6 months can bring significant changes.  They grow taller, fatter, can become more talkative, and just overall grow up.

Frank Ely and Steve have gotten taller.  Otherwise, they are the same mischievous boys who like to dance around the room and make a bit of commotion.

Little Belinda looks thinner.  Though she doesn’t look it, Belinda is four.  She was never a good eater, but a loss of a pound or two when you don’t even weigh 20 lbs can be significant. 
Lazar has a little girlfriend, named Alison.  I have yet to meet Alison, but he blushes when you mention her name. 

My autistic buddies, Kelly and John, seem to have flourished.  They were pretty emotionless when I met them last Fall.  This Spring, I have seen more smiles on John in one day than I saw on his face during my entire last trip.  Kelly is also a lot more interactive than he used to be.  You can talk to him and engage him for a bit before he re-enters his own world.

David is more comfortable being mobile in his wheelchair.  On my last visit, he preferred to hop around on the floor, but now he’s speedy enough in the wheelchair to prefer its use. 
Vivian is still in love with Walnes.  She still brings his pictures out and writes his name in her notebooks.

This band of societal castoffs that have been bound together to form their own family unit impresses me.  BJ makes the other boys laugh by using one of his few controlled muscles, his mouth, to oddly bit a wheelchair handle of another child.  Sadraque and Raoul have long conversations about the beach through slurred speech, nodding, and grunting.  Lazar grunts for me to give his unfinished lunch to Gesner to finish.  It is the compassion that these special-needs children show for one another that truly makes them special to all those who are lucky enough to meet them.

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