It’s been raining here for the last 2 days. Well, sometimes raining. Mostly it’s cloudy and cold with some sprinkles here and there. On the way to Port Au Prince on Sunday it began to pour.
As I talked Jeanel he told me that Haiti was crying because I was going away. I told him I thought that Haiti probably had bigger things to cry over than my leaving. He smiled at me and said that I was right but that Haiti was used to her problems by now. He commented that maybe it’s not Haiti crying anymore but God, looking down and crying for the people.
Maybe he was right, maybe God is crying, I can’t imagine that this pain doesn’t break his heart. Regardless of weather the drops that fall are tears or just rain, the sadness that is in the air is almost visible.
As my plane took off the tears that ran down my cheeks fell in rivers that matched the ones streaming down the outside of my window for the last several days. I didn’t care to hold them back anymore, there were no kids around to be brave for. I couldn’t push them back any longer and the sobs that shook my shoulders felt good, like a relief.
Now I am in Minneapolis where it isn’t raining. It’s a dreary kind of cold that makes me shiver until my muscles ache. I am here with only the thoughts of those sweet babies to fill my time. I’m not crying anymore but the tears are still falling. I can imagine the mothers who weep as their children lie on muddy floors with empty bellies. I can see the overwhelmed missionary who will give everything they can day after day and still look outside to the crowd of people they cannot rescue. I can imagine the old men who have seen their country face more than they ever dreamed possible, as a tear winds it’s way through the path of wrinkles on his face.
Oh Haiti, I ache for you.