Chico Accepts Christ
This week, I witnessed one of the most precious moments I’ve experienced since working at Compassion. I’m traveling as a writer with about 25 sponsors on a Sponsor Tour in Guatemala. On Monday, a few of us visited Chico’s home.
Chico is an adorable 9 -year-old sponsored child. He and eight other family members live in one house with no electricity. His mother, Miriam, does what she can to support her family.
“I work all day, every day to take care of my children. I make tostadas and sell them. Since their father left me, it’s up to me.”
Making and selling tostadas brings in about $10 a day.
While we interviewed the family, Laura, a sponsor from Virginia Beach, Va., asked Chico if he knew Jesus. After our interpreter, Carlota, asked Chico the question for us, she started to cry. I couldn’t figure out why.
Carlota explained that Chico’s answer was no, but that he was ready to invite Jesus into his heart. He had heard about Jesus at his development center, but hadn’t committed his life to Him yet. So, right there in the middle of their kitchen, Laura led Chico in a prayer of salvation.
She explained to Chico that when someone invites Jesus into their heart, angels in heaven rejoice (Luke 15:10). She told him, “The angels are having a big party for you, Chico, right now.”
Chico’s smile at that moment will stay with me the rest of my life.
If you’re part of Compassion’s ministry, you were a part of this moment.
Thoughts on Haiti From Haiti: 21 Days Later
This was written yesterday by Bob Thorp, a member of our Complementary Interventions team, who has been in Haiti working with our staff since shortly after the earthquake.
“I’ve witnessed a metamorphosis here since arriving here 21 days ago. Then, the words I could use to describe what I saw was a whole city in shock, walking around like zombies, walking wounded. Blank stares. Hollow eyes, caked with mud, now dry from an inability to produce more tears. A survival mentality had set in – each one for themselves. Walk right past someone trapped, because they needed to get home to find their own loved ones.
“Today, car horns blare from 4:00am on late into the night. The continual roar of traffic, occasional squealing of tires, movement everywhere. Life is returning to Port-au-Prince. It started like a drip – in dire need of food and water, street vendors started setting up shop – hawking anything and everything. Fruits and vegetables started appearing. Clothes, used and new – recovered from the rubble of someone else’s house – who knows – now hand on clothes hangers covering a filthy crumbling wall like royal curtains. Mountains of shoes have also made it to the street vendors. Even seen a place where you could buy just one shoe! Not sure why, either they had a niche for those that could only find one of their shoes. Or more morbid, selling shoes to all those who lost limbs because of this tragedy.”
Read the entire blog post.
“I’ve witnessed a metamorphosis here since arriving here 21 days ago. Then, the words I could use to describe what I saw was a whole city in shock, walking around like zombies, walking wounded. Blank stares. Hollow eyes, caked with mud, now dry from an inability to produce more tears. A survival mentality had set in – each one for themselves. Walk right past someone trapped, because they needed to get home to find their own loved ones.Life in Haiti After the Earthquake: It Just Hurts
Received from Scott Todd, our Senior Ministry Advisor, who is leading our medical team in Port-au-Prince.
Saturday, Jan. 30 – We had the chance to meet eight leadership students today. We sat in a circle in the parking lot listening to their stories as ashes drifted like snow upon us and the smell of burning plastics scorched the air.
They spoke of how important Compassion’s work has been in their lives. Some shared with tears about being selected for the Leadership Development Program. I don’t know whether the tears flowed from joy, gratitude or something sad.
Like the dream that almost came true. They had climbed so high. From the slums to the universities. But when we asked how many went to schools which had been damaged in the earthquake all of them raised their hands.
We asked how many had lost friends or loved ones and all raised their hands again.
At one school 90 percent (180 out of 200) of the students were killed. With buildings collapsed, professors and administrators dead, its hard to imagine how those dreams can come true now.
May God have mercy on us if we fail to find a way forward for them. They are Haiti’s future.
Life in Haiti After the Earthquake: Carrying On
From Scott Todd, our Senior Ministry Advisor, who is leading our medical team in Port-au-Prince.
I’m in my tent. Too tired to go up to the place where I can connect to Internet on the sloping desk and wobbly chair in the parking lot – so I know this won’t go out tonight.
Today (Jan. 29) we returned to the area we visited on day two. Leogone. Almost a two-hour drive. It is an absolute war zone of destruction. Nearly the whole town is rubble. I felt a deeper sadness than the other places – a community completely broken. Yet, they were clearing away the debris from the streets and already beginning to rebuild.
We arrived at the church, a partner in our program, to find a group of people under a tarp canopy. We assumed they were patients waiting for our arrival as had been the case on previous days. They weren’t.
They were the people of the church who had gathered for fasting and prayer. They sang, “What a friend we have in Jesus, all our hopes and griefs to bear.”
We set up the clinic with greater proficiency today – larger tarps, larger ropes, higher anchors so the heat radiating under the plastic didn’t bake the people (and us).
Another day of broken bones and infected wounds. A few unexpected cases – a man with polio who had fallen and needed surgery, a young boy whose foreskin was nearly sealed, preventing urination, creating back pressure and infection risk.
Half the team has suffered intestinal problems, but they carry on despite their misery. It didn’t help that there were no latrines available today. We “stood guard” for one another.
The person I will be specifically praying for tonight is Chantal. Mother of five. We saw her two days earlier and I believe it is by God’s guidance that we came to this site today.
Life in Haiti After the Earthquake: Living by Faith
Received from Scott Todd, our Senior Ministry Advisor, who is leading our medical team in Port-au-Prince.
Back at my sloping desk in the parking lot with my chair tottering over the pothole.
In some ways today (Jan. 28) was the most exhausting. Mainly the heat in our “clinic.” Once again, under tarps despite a respectable-looking church right next to us.
Our team used the church for sorting meds and eating lunch, and I hope that our occupying it might encourage the people to overcome the fear that the earth may shake it down at any moment.
Treated over 100 people again today, but the conditions generally seem less severe in the city, where people are getting access to health services.
The story that will most trouble me as I try to sleep in the parking lot again tonight is the two very young children (approximately 2 and 3 years old) whose parents both died in the quake.
These young children are registered in our Child Survival Program. Their aunt came to take them and is caring for them.
I just learned an hour ago that their aunt is 15 years old and they are sleeping in the street under a makeshift tarp tent. It’s night now and I wonder how that 15-year-old girl is going to find any food for herself or for those little ones.
I’ve only shared about the kids and people we’ve been seeing, but I want to say something about our staff in Haiti.
It just isn’t possible to describe the emotional burden they carry. I spoke with Jozue (Joshua), who works for Compassion and is pastor of the church where we set up the mobile clinic today.
Jozue told me that on the day of the quake his wife was getting ready to wash their two little girls. Their water is outside, like a backyard spigot, and when mom went out to get the water one of the girls saw her go out and began to follow. Then the second one followed.
Mom saw the girls coming out of the house and said “Get back inside.”
But the girl said “No!”
“I said go back inside!”
But the girl stomped her foot and insisted, “No!”
Life in Haiti After the Earthquake: Reclaiming Beauty From Despair
Received from Scott Todd, our Senior Ministry Advisor, who is leading our medical team in Port-au-Prince.
Today (Jan. 27) was … not sure what word could cover it. The team went to a rural site (HA748) and set up our clinic under a large mango tree.
I had to stay back in the morning because we had medical supplies that had missed the original plane and it was important to receive them. They were tagged to me, and we didn’t think U.S. forces would allow anyone else through.
So, with a tail number on an aircraft we went through the two checkpoints and were suddenly amidst the chaos of the tarmac. Massive cargo planes from the U.S. military being unloaded, vast field of materials, also some non-U.S. big planes – a 777 from Israel…. Helicopters of all types buzzing around.
We took a guess at a small plane and drove out to a field where they were parking smaller charters and we found our guy grabbed our meds and got out to HA748.
The team saw much heavier needs today. I held an 80 year old (approximately) lady for 30 minutes while she writhed in pain as our orthopedic surgeon amputated her toe. It had been crushed and was rotting infection up into the bone so it needed to be completely cleared out.
That old lady was made of leather and wire but wailed away. We probably saved her life – certainly her foot as the infection would have progressed.
Life in Haiti After the Earthquake
Received from Scott Todd, our Senior Ministry Advisor, who is leading our medical team in Port-au-Prince.
Last night’s (Jan. 25) arrival – in the dark, no lights in the airport, Humvees and Marines roaring around, bags thrown on the tarmac, smell of jet fuel, shouting, chaos, can’t find our pickup, pulling out over 30 duffel bags and boxes, driving through the chaos of Port-au-Prince with three of our guys on top of each pickup “guarding” baggage.
Touring our office at night with flashlights, framed mission statement on the wall tilted, leadership principles tilted, warning to walk clear of certain walls which are collapsing – pitch tent in parking lot, spray some DEET, take some Malarone, sweating from hauling stuff.
Today (Jan. 26), our medical team worked under tarps because the people are afraid to go inside buildings. Within an hour we were up and running and saw approximately 100 patients.
Each patient registered at entry through a gate with name, basic info including height, weight etc… and took a number. Some were triaged. Others waited to be called to one of four (sometimes five) stations. Each station had a doc, nurse and translator (though some of our Haitian nurses also served as translators).
The cases were not as severe as I expected with some very serious cuts and abrasions that were infected and needed dressing, some dislocations, a few bone issues. Many were just overwhelmed and needed someone to look at them and tell them they were okay. We prayed with some of them.
It’s Time to Start Over in Haiti
UPDATED: Jan. 22, 2010 – Listen to Tim interviewed by Rodney Olsen on Australia’s 98.5 Sonshine FM.
You can see the photos and video footage on your television or computer, but they don’t do the devastation in Haiti justice.
Building after building has collapsed. I’ve seen dozens of multistory buildings that have collapsed into a stack of pancaked floors. Looking at the sheer tonnage of cement, I’m amazed anyone survived.
Hospitals, schools, churches and businesses all flattened. As if this country didn’t already struggle to provide those services to those who need it. That is the great irony right now. The number of people who need medical attention has increased dramatically as the result of this disaster, but the number of medical clinics and hospitals decreased. It seems so unjust.
Communication and transportation are terrible. I’d love to be able to show you some of the videos that I’ve shot, but I can’t get a strong enough Internet connection to last long enough to upload. At this point, my best connection provides 8kb per second. Terribly slow. And it lasts only a few minutes at a time.
This morning, I witnessed a relief truck get overtaken by a crowd of people in the streets. The people climbed the big rig by the dozens, forcing open the back doors and tossing out bags of rice … all while the truck was driving.
People are desperate for food. All over town, there are makeshift signs (mostly sheets with painted words on them) saying, “We Need Help” or “Please — We Need Food and Water.”
At the border of the Dominican Republic and Haiti, I saw a couple of relief supply trucks that had been turned into makeshift storefronts. People were trying to sell the food, water and clothing inside. Another example of how important it is for you to make sure you partner with an organization that has established distribution channels.
Many organizations can get stuff here, but don’t know how to distribute it. Parking a truck on the side of the road can cause mayhem. (more…)
The Happiest Day of a Sponsored Child’s Life
If you can’t visit your children, and we understand that it’s not always possible, you need to know this. It’s an absolute truth. Your sponsored children want to hear from you!
Sponsor a Singing Bunny!
Apparently, a singing bunny has made its way into our child sponsorship program in El Salvador. The Compassion Bloggers saw it.
Sponsor a singing bunny in El Salvador.
Thanks for the video Patricia.
My Best Day in Ministry: The Day I Was Used Most by God
Dan Trumble, a managerial accountant in Finance Business Partner Support, tells a story of one man’s salvation brought about in a way that only God can orchestrate.
Josh Durias on Children in Poverty
We’d like to introduce you to Josh Durias and his photography.
Josh was born and raised in Seattle. He’s a father of two, and a husband to one.
We’re plagiarizing here … jes so ya know.
He’s a son of Philippine immigrants and grew up with his mother and father, sister, brother, grandmother, grandfather, two aunts, four uncles and five cousins (among other houseguests) in the 18 years he spent at home.
He enjoys people. And likes to laugh … even courtesy laughs … ha ha. 🙂
We met Josh through this blog. He sent us an e-mail with some photos he took on a Compassion trip. They are stunning. See for yourself.
We also asked him to share a little bit about the trip to help put the photos in context. We hope you enjoy Josh’s perspective on children in poverty.
Gearing up for my Compassion trip to Ecuador, I told my wife, “Ya know? In some ways I might have more in common with the Compassion kids than with the folks I’m traveling with.”
She needed a bit more convincing.
I reminded her that my cousin was a Compassion child in the Philippines, my mother grew up in a poor farming community in Zamboanga, and many of my family members are still living in situations like the ones I’ll see on the trip.
“Wow,” she replied. “I hope people can see that in your photos.”
With that, my challenge was set: Tell the stories of these kids as if they were my own family.
Back in June, I traveled with a group of donors to Quito, Ecuador. The first stop was Bernabe Student Center for a Child Survival Program (CSP) presentation. This was the same center where I met Edison and Paula.
Edison and his family opened up their home for us to see what typical living arrangements look like in this area of Quito.
After lunch with the family, the highlight of the day was Edison’s birthday cake. No, it wasn’t his birthday, but for Edison’s first five birthdays his family didn’t have the funds for a birthday cake. So on that day, Compassion sponsored Edison’s very first birthday cake!
We encouraged him to “go for it,” but Edison wanted us to slice the cake up for everyone to enjoy.
When we returned to the center, a little girl named Paula waited anxiously for one of the families on the trip – her sponsor family. She was shy, but excited about the meeting. Her sponsor family greeted her with open arms and grins from ear to ear, but what really broke the ice were the gifts.
The family unveiled (among other things) a “Dora the Explorer” blanket. Paula loved Dora.
From that point on hugs, smiles and tears of joy were shared by everyone in the room. To think, this is just the start of years of support.
The last center we visited (Jesus Rey de Reyes Student Center) was located in Otavalo. Here we met Jessica and her family and spent much of the afternoon doing typical tasks around their home.
A few of the members on the trip tried their hand at picking corn. Others worked the wool that the family used in weaving belts that were sold at the market. Some of the most brilliant colors and intricate weaving I’ve ever seen!
On the flight home, I realized how thankful I am. I am thankful for an organization like Compassion whose sole purpose is to release children from poverty.
I am thankful that kids like Edison, Paula, Jessica and my cousin can be given hope in places where there may be no hope. And I am thankful that I, the son of a poor farmer’s daughter, get to share the story of kids growing up in his own mother’s shoes and sharing them through photography.
