Street kids in Haiti

When you are a missionary, you are like a Mom - you have to be able to do almost anything at any time, with little notice with practically nothing.

This trip was like that for me. I drove 8 hours up to Cap Haitian, mostly in the dark following a diesel exhaust-belching bus (Thank God for A/C!). On the way back, I did the same thing, but lead the way most of the time. I took care of first aid, food for 40 and had to go to the airport (1 & 1/2 hour round trip) four times to pick up 30 lost suitcases.

But the best part of the trip for me were the spontaneous moments when Haitians crowded around us to see what we were doing. Many times this trip I took the opportunity to share my Christian testimony and the story of how I was shot and survived. Of course it helped that I had the bullet holes in my truck seat and door to show the doubting Thomas's. Many listened with rapt attention, especially the children. On the last day in Cap Haitian I was at a park waiting for the team to show up and get on the bus.

A few street kids started to gather around me so I gave them tracts. Right away, one of the boys started to read the tract outloud - he was so happy to have something to read in Creole! He read straight through the tract without stopping with the correct pronunciation and intonation! I was amazed and asked where he had learned to read like that (80% of Haitians can't read). He told me that before his parents had died, they had send him to 5 years of school. He said his Father had died in the earthquake, and that his mother had died of cancer 3 years ago. I asked him why he didn't stay with his relatives. He said his Grandmothers were dead, and the only relative he knew about was an aunt in Ti Riviere which was over 60 miles away.

His name was Gilot and he is 11 years old. My heart was breaking. I so wanted to take him home and train his sharp mind!! The best I could do was get the name of his Aunt and give it to our contact in Ti Riviere where we have a soccer team to see if he could locate the boy's aunt.

As I kept talking a dozen more boys showed up, so I called a friend from the hospital we had visited and asked him if he knew of any place that helped street kids. He said there was a ministry that gave them a hot meal once a day right at that plaza. The boys knew of it, but said they didn't serve food on Sundays. So I gave everyone some crackers and water and kept talking to them. Out of the 15 boys or so, 3 could read!

Back in the 60's I remember an advertisement for the Äftrican-American college fund that said "A mind is a terrible thing to waste". Please pray for these bright young boys who could help their country so much if given a chance, and the right spiritual training.