thousands of words
The most memorable time of my two week visit to Haiti has no pictures, and rightfully so. One afternoon after visiting an orphanage in the morning we went to a nutrition center run where over a hundred severely malnourished children waited in cribs as a staff of volunteers and nuns rotated through a day of constant feedings and diaper changes in hopes of getting the children back into a life of thriving energy and curiosity that we all enjoyed. The rooms were surprisingly quiet as crying in hunger or stress was too tiresome.
No cameras are allowed as the center opens to the public for two hours each afternoon, not for tourism, but for help in giving the children something they desperately need, caring contact and attention. Many, if not most suffered from reactive attachment disorder, couldn’t hold eye contact, etc. It was striking and unforgettable.
As I approached Rose’s crib, she soon understood what was happening as I helped her to her feet — stretching out her arms. Soon glued to my chest, she found the plastic flowers hanging from the ceiling to be hilarious as she reached for them, not wanting to let go. Soon afterwards she was deep asleep, arms occasionally twitching. And just like that we spent the next two hours, walking slowly around the floor and later finding out the true relief of sitting in a chair when holding a child.
Too soon it was time to leave and I foolishly imagined a perfected and supported transfer of the sleeping Rose back to her crib — such was not the case. Not even an inch from my now sweated shirt, she awoke from her sleep and instantly cried. Having no other choice, I had to leave her in her crib, taking only the solace that she had enough energy to muster up an loud and emotional wail.
I learned later that week from a spotty internet connection that on that same Monday my sister was holding a new baby girl of her own, Anya Elizabeth, and too feeling the rise and fall of an other’s chest while breathing.
Suddenly I wanted to be in more that one place at the same time.