Since the Healing Waters International water project opened at the Comunidad Cristiana El Santuario Iglesia de Dios Pentecostal Church in 2006, church members have had more opportunities to decide on matters that can benefit the ministry and the community of Barrio Mexico in southern coastal town of San Pedro de Macorís in Dominican Republic.

The church’s leadership calls for periodic members’ meetings where all ministry managers update the assembly on their ministry. Since all the ministries overlap in some way, these reports help the church make the best decisions.

The ministries include Compassion’s Child Sponsorship Program, the Healing Waters International water project, a school and a community holistic vocational center.

These church meetings have become a forum at which the community, represented by the believers, can discuss the best ways to manage resources.

Milqueya is a mother of eight and grandma of seven. She and her husband still live with 11 children and grandchildren at home. Milqueya and her large family enjoy the benefits of the decisions she’s been helping her church make as a voting member. One important decision was the incorporation of the Healing Waters International water project.

In the past, even the least harmful water source wasn’t safe enough for Milqueya. She bought water from the trucks that drove past her home.

Miqueya paid only RD$20 for a 5-gallon water bottle, avoiding the RD$35 price at local stores. But the truck-bought water was making her and her family sick.

“The water caused us stomach diseases. But after we began to drink the water from the church, we are always healthy and we don’t have any stomach problems.”

After the Healing Waters International project began, the community’s health has improved. (more…)

Hey all, Aaron from Compassion Canada here.

We recently asked Pastor Tim Bailey of Hillside Church in London, ON, the question “What is compassion?” We liked his answer so much that we wanted to share it with all of you. Enjoy!

Her bottom lip quivered as her fingers nervously played with her hair band. Her eyes glanced quickly from side to side, as if expecting to run at any moment. Her knee bounced to the beat of her heart as she listened passively to my questions.

She was a Restavek child from the depths of Port-au-Prince, Haiti, and without the knowledge of her owners, she was meeting with us to tell her story.

It was the story of a concrete mattress, early morning chores and constant abuse. It was a story of an uncle who was using her as his own personal slave. (more…)

Over on another blog post – Where Do You Sponsor a Child? – several sponsors have been exchanging maps of the countries where we work; maps that list the child development center numbers and give a rough approximation of where the centers are located in relation to one another.

You can now find all of those maps in our Flickr account.

I’m an American mom who raised two sons, one stepson and one stepdaughter. We were your classic “blended family,” I suppose, and it wasn’t easy. Issues that come up for blended families can be extremely complex.

All four of my children were teenagers at the same time. It was challenging.

I would hear things like, “My dad lets me do … ” or “My mom cooks dinner like … ” It seemed my particular “momming” abilities (for my kids or my stepkids) were never good enough. Consequently, my self-esteem took a beating and I felt unappreciated most of the time.

I have to admit, the years of parenting teens left my heart wounded. The pains of these old wounds have stayed with me. I often wondered if I would ever be released from them.

Then, without expecting it, a special gift from God found its way into my life …  all the way from the Dominican Republic. (more…)

joanlyndapuckett provided us with our latest blog banner.

She took the photo while in the Dominican Republic for the Global Advocates Conference.

Hope you like it as much as we do.

Keep submitting photos to our Flickr group. We may choose one of your photos next.

Growing up in Haiti, Milord was no stranger to need. In his rural home of Petit-Goave, where the average income is barely more than $1 a day, he experienced poverty personally and saw how it affected those most vulnerable, women and children. It became his personal dream to impact his community for good.

When he moved to the city and became part of the Capitol Development Center, he became the leader of the youth club … and decided he wanted to become the leader of the entire child development center so he could help make an impact on his community.

Milord was so committed that he, once a Compassion-sponsored child himself, achieved this mission when he became the director of the Capitol Development Center. He is honored to minister to 450 children through the child sponsorship program and 90 children and caregivers through the Child Survival Program (CSP). His mission is to bring them spiritual, socio-emotional and economic change.

Milord has now been successfully working as the center director for eight years. He became director just several years after graduating from the program himself, having studied social work and theology at the university. (more…)

The first thing you notice when you wake up in Port-au-Prince is the smoke. Your eyes sting, and it feels as though you’ve had a smoky cloth held over your mouth all night from the Haitians’ cooking fires. I half expect to wake up next to a campfire in my tent, not in a major city.

The streets of Port-au-Prince are a zigzagging labyrinth that all look the same to me, and I can’t understand how everyone isn’t permanently lost. The streets are steep like San Francisco, and so potholed that you practically have to have a truck or SUV to buck up and down and over the broken cobblestones.

Women in tank tops carry baskets of fruit on their heads, while others squat roadside frying plantains for passers-by.

Tap taps, the main transportation through the city, spill over with thin men in suits on their way to work. The tap taps are a chaos of color, pickup trucks painted in fuchsia and purple and green with pictures of famous singers and Jesus on them.

As our truck sits in traffic, a woman with blank eyes taps on the window with her hand held out.      

We arrive in front of the white-barred gate of a Compassion-assisted child development center, that opens up to a wide courtyard filled with children playing basketball and running about.

The children spot my camera right away and timidly tap me on the shoulder, hoping to have their picture taken so they can see their faces on the screen. They smile and giggle until I raise the camera, when they suddenly stand up straight and compose themselves seriously for their photo shoot.

The courtyard is ringed by classes, and we smell cookies baking in the cooking class filled with teenage girls. They give us a plate to take home with us.

We poke our heads in various classes where some are learning sewing, some painting, and some are studying the Bible.

In the class of 3- to 5-year-olds, we greet the class, “Como ca va?” And 30 little voices shout back in unison: “Ca va bien, merci! Et vous?!”

I speak to the teacher of the painting class, who learned to paint in that very project. Now he makes occasional money selling his paintings on the street. He is meek and quiet and asks that I’ll pray he can afford Bible school so he can become a pastor.

I talk to the project accountant, a tall, well-spoken man who asks for the prayer of the sponsors as he and the other project workers serve the children.

After disrupting several classes and giving an impromptu geography lesson, we leave with our plate of cookies. We bump back up and down the Port-au-Prince streets, and I’m frankly relieved to pull safely up to our clean hotel away from the noise and smells of the streets. 

We have dinner at the hotel, looking down over the pool and tennis courts, surrounded by lush green overgrowth. I ask my Haitian friend if he likes it here, in Port-au-Prince, where he has grown up. He shakes his head no. Although it is home, he would rather be elsewhere, like the millions of the Haitian diaspora.  

And yet, he stays. I’ve grown to admire these people who believe in and love their country, even when it would seem so tempting to desert in a situation so hard. Yet each day, they get up and choose to try to be a part of changing their country by serving the children and giving them hope for a different future.