Sunday with God

          Yesterday, Sunday, I was pretty tired in the morning because I had walked so much the day before.  I decided to skip church and spend some time in Bible study up on the roof.  Manda and Meghan have raved about how much they love the book of Isaiah, so I decided to start reading it.  I like it.  Not only is it well written from a literary standpoint, but I like seeing pieces of the Lutheran liturgy right in the book.  Pretty cool.
          I decided then to take a walk to see whether I could find this one piece of property that I really love.  It was much easier to find than I thought, and I walked in it and sat down on a brick wall toward the back.  I was just sitting there, looking at and dreaming about what the space could be.  A slight breeze blew through the trees.  I just sat lost in thought.  My thinking was interrupted by a young gentleman who opted to sit next to me.  We covered the familiar topics of name, family, how long I've been in Haiti, and then we switched to what I knew was coming: he was hungry.  His mother was hungry.  His family was hungry.  I waited for the next question: can you give me some money for food.  This time, though, that question didn't come.  He followed with a question that a Haitian has never asked before:

"What is your dream for Haiti?"

So I told him: for all Haitians to have a place to live, enough food to eat, plenty of clean drinking water, access to education, and independence from foreign aid.  He said those were good dreams.  Then he asked me another question that I've never been asked before:

"What is your dream for you in Haiti?"

So I told him: to buy that piece of property and turn it into a place where neighborhood people could hang out, play games, where children could be and be safe, maybe provide food, let it become a community center of sorts.

He said that was a good dream.

We continued to talk about our respective presidents, his hopes of visiting the States some day, the work I do in Haiti.  It was pretty easy.  He said that he lived nearby and asked if I would like to meet his mother.  Now, I never, I mean never, go to people's houses here and go inside.  But, I did yesterday.  For some reason it felt okay.  Right.  I met Cherlin's brother Son, but the mother wasn't home.  The two of us talked a bit, and then I said I had to go.  The house was small and neat and clean.  The brothers shared that nine people live in the house.  Blew me away because the entire house was about the size of 1/2 my house.  Cherlin and I walked outside, and he asked for money for food.  Again, I never, I mean never, give money to people on the street who ask for it.  But I did this time.  It felt right.

I was out today at the beach, so I didn't have time to visit Cherlin and his family, but I plan to do that tomorrow.  Maybe I'll go to his house.  Maybe I'll see him on the piece of property.  I don't know, but I'm curious to see what comes from meeting him.