{rice, beans & love}

From my very first trip to Haiti, I remember passing quickly past small villages and seeing forbidden paths of dirt and dust that led to the unknown. Curiosity always led me wondering to what type of stories were hidden in the cracks and corners of these small villages. And now, as I continue to immerse myself into this foreign, yet all-too-familiar place, I try to discover the miraculous stories this place holds.

I recognize now that every crack and corner holds amazing stories. Stories of heartaches, trials and despair. Stories that hold endless possibilities of triumph and hope. Stories just like little Dieucilia.

Dieucilia is a five-year-old in our Preschool 2 classroom. She’s bright-spirited and beautiful. This past week I had the privilege of not only seeing her home, but hearing how she has overcome death herself and is a living miracle. At 3-months-old, Dieucilia was found in a garbage dump, left to die. The couple that is now raising her heard a cry from the garbage and found her as a young infant. They believe the reason she was left to die was because she was ugly and therefore unwanted. They have had no luck in finding her parents, but now she has a family all of her own. A family who takes care of this young life and a family who sees the beauty in her life.

I’ve heard many stories of hospitals dumping children with diseases and disabilities. Mothers dumping their own children because they don’t want or can’t take care of their own. Stories of abandonment, rejection, and ultimately murder. Stories of ultimate heartache and despair. Stories that I wish didn’t have to exist in this world.

How wonderful it is though to know that we can witness these miracles. A miracle of a girl who was left to die and is now attending a school made for such a time as this. A school that wants to tell the stories of the children; children who have overcome the heartaches, defeated the trials and will live to tell the story of a better day.

It’s a hard life, but it’s a beautiful story.

Dieucilia still needs a Touch of Hope sponsor. To start sponsoring her, e-mail me at touchofhopehaiti@gmail.com OR to see all the other beautiful faces with stories all of their own, see the TOUCH OF HOPE link above to get started.

Love from Haiti.

I would consider myself a dreamer, always dreaming up all sorts of activities and plans that we could have and build here in Haiti. Pretty easy to dream here, when you’re starting with basically nothing. Webert’s favorite phrase, as I tell him another idea, is “Come down, Kayla, come down” – bringing me back to reality. I see a better Haiti in the future, but the hard part is not getting distracted from what the Lord’s future is for Haiti.

We talk so much here. Talk about what we are doing, talk about what we can do, talk about what we will do. We talk and dream up things everyday in this life, but today I’m not only challenging myself to “shut-up” but want to challenge you as well. Challenge ourselves to “femen bousche nou,” shut our mouths, and listen to what the Man upstairs is planning out. I think He is talking to us, talking about a better tomorrow, but we are too busy talking that we forget to “come down” and look up to listen.

Proverbs 20:24 says, “A man’s steps are directed by the Lord, How then can any understand his ways?”

And the note for the verse in the footer says, “We are often confused by the events around us. Many things we will never understand; others will fall into place in years to come as we look back and see how God was working. This proverb counsels us not to worry if we don’t understand everything as it happens. Instead, we should trust that God knows what he’s doing, even if his timing or design is not clear.” (NIV, Life Application Study Bible.)

This verse tells me that is okay to dream, and some people are going to call me foolish and think I am crazy anyways. But, this verse also reminds me to dream and walk in the ways of the Lord. So, where exactly is he leading me?

It has led me on this crazy adventure in Haiti, which by the way I’m so blessed by the support I have received from all my followers. But the adventure has led me into so many unknowns, but it has also led me to meet lots of new people from all over the place.

People, who are dreamers, just like me. People who believe in a better tomorrow.

Two and a half years ago I met Briana, a girl from Canada, who I would consider a really good friend today. We have kept in touch via Facebook and e-mails, sharing our own heartaches and sufferings with each other, praying for one another hundreds of miles apart. She’s one of those people I’m so thankful that God crossed my path with.

Several months ago Briana connected me with one of her friends that she also met through Haiti. Sally Philips came to Haiti for the first time for a weeklong mission trip. Her heart broke and she confessed to me that after she went back home she would find her self in the fetal position sobbing, not knowing what she could do for these people. She traveled back to Haiti a few months later, for a month long stay that time. It was during that time when the Lord crossed her path with Briana. They both worked together in a sewing project for that month.

During that month long stay, the Lord revealed His plan to Sally and told her how He wanted her to start a new project here in Haiti that would teach and employ women. I believe Sally had to keep her mouth shut for quite some time before she received the whole plan. Today she has got it though and I’m so excited to tell you about it.

After being introduced to Sally through e-mail, we communicated for several months discussing her dreams and what the Lord was calling her do. We finally met this past month and are now beginning to see what the Lord’s design is for both her project and the mountaintop. Sally’s non-profit is Threads of Kindness and what she hopes to build is a factory that will produce medical scrubs and be shipped internationally. Her program will first teach women how to sew and once they graduate from the program they will then be offered full-time sewing jobs making medical scrubs. Sally has been researching and designing exactly what the demands are for scrubs these days, and she’s confidant in her product.

Her heart and her mission are so similar to both ViBella’s mission and my heart that it is obvious this is the working of the Lord. Who else would put it all together like this? The women who will be employed at Threads of Kindness will hopefully be mothers of children at our school. We want to integrate our programs and I see this happening by mothers dropping their children off at school and then going to work themselves. It’s a beautiful picture: working mothers and children being educated. We are planning for the factory to be built at the back of our school property.

Sally hopes to start with 20-25 women and reach 50 full-time employees, if it is the Lord’s will. Even 20 full-time jobs added to this community will make such a large impact, so I am very excited for the endless possibilities that Threads of Kindness, Vi Bella and the school, together, hold for this community.

So what is standing in our way, you may be wondering now?

The logistics of course. We are still figuring out the shipping, importing and exporting details. We have some leads, but haven’t gotten everything completely figured out quite yet. I guess this is when we need to stay faithful and wait for the Lord’s direction.

How can you get involved?

Threads of Kindness is an established 501(3)c non-profit in the United States, based out of Norman, Oklahoma. Most of the funds have been raised for the building, but they are still looking for support. For more information on Threads of Kindness you can go to their website: www.threadsofkindness.org, their Facebook page: Threads of Kindness or follow them on Twitter @kindthreads. Donations can be made through pay pal on their website or by mailing a check to P.O Box 8 Norman, Oklahoma 73070.

When Webert and I first began dreaming about all the things we would do on the mountaintop, this wasn’t close to anything we thought of. But we have both agreed that is time for us to remain faithful and watch what God is going to do, not what we are going to do. Time for us to close our mouths. Listen. Watch. Be captivated.

We are captivated by the opportunity of Threads of Kindness and we are praying it will come to full. Pray with us as we wait anxiously for all the details to unfold and come together.

“Many are the plans of a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails”

–Proverbs 19:21

There’s a place in this world that makes me sad. It’s a place I have wanted to write about but haven’t been able to find the right words or the right way to tell its story. Today I’m going to try to piece it together, because I feel like it has been on my heart for far too long.

I found myself driving along the one sound piece of infrastructure in Haiti to its capital, Port-au-Prince, this past Tuesday morning. The sun was rising over the mountaintop and the ocean was to the right of me reflecting the morning’s newly born rays. A whole new day lied out ahead of me. As I cruised along, I watched as the hillsides of Haiti woke up.

From afar you can only be captivated by the majesty of Haiti itself. The mountains and the ocean, knowing these were the grandeur things that have been here since the beginning of time. But as you look more closely, you see the sadness. You will begin to notice the not-so-grandeur and majestic things. You will notice the brokenness.  And you will see a mountainside that thousands call home. We (I’m stereotyping we into those of us who live within a four-walled structure that keeps us comfortable and safe and those of us who are beyond ruined by our North American society. I’m putting us into a group of people who are so blind that we continue to ignore and oppress the mountainside I’m going to introduce you to.) would consider this mountainside and these “homes” unlivable, infeasible, unbearable, refutable and out of the question for human survival. Quite frankly, I don’t think we would be able to survive on this mountainside.

It’s a mountainside I drive past regularly, a route that government officials, people of wealth, missionaries of all denominations and Haitian citizens drive past everyday. It’s a mountainside that stretches for as far as the eye can see, definitely not something that can just be “over looked.” It stretches along the outer skirts of Port-au-Prince and has now been consumed by the homeless. Not the kind of homeless we know of in the United States, but a whole different kind. These are the people whose houses fell, crushed and diminished three years ago when the country of Haiti shook to its core. With no other place to turn, thousands of human beings had to look outwards. They looked to the out skirts of the city, to the mountainside. They first moved to this place as a temporary dwelling, but it has now turned into a permanent reality.

I reckon we would consider these people “homeless,” due to their conditions. Or as a girl who grew up camping during the summer months, maybe it could be seen as a permanent style of camping, except to the tenth degree because there sure aren’t any fun beach days or nighttime campfires with s’mores.. This lifestyle is about survival. It’s about having nowhere to call home, nothing to claim as your own and doing what you can to survive to the next day. There is no such thing as an overdue stay or no place to turn to when the “camping trip” is over. This is reality. It’s all too real.

It’s a mountainside that rids me with guilt each and every time I cruise on past.  At first it was the thoughts of “well this is just the result of the earthquake, it will soon pass,” but now it has grown into something so much more than that. Something permanent. Something real. Something that is definitely not going away…

This mountainside tells the story of the thousands who lost their homes, their family members, their friends, their jobs, their lively hoods, and their voices. This mountainside is crying for someone to hear them, yet people – thousands of people – just continue to cruise on by.

People cruise on by to their homes made of cement or down the road to the fancy beach resorts that have buffets overflowing with scrumptious food. Many people will cruise on by and return home to the land of wealth and prosperity, a place we call home and a place they call “Etazini” (America). A place where we don’t just have homes made of a sound structure, but we have running water, cupboards overflowing with food, indoor plumbing, carpeted floors, expensive leather lay-z-boys and televisions with thousands of channels. We even have electricity that powers our obnoxious amount of iPods, cell phones, lab tops, desk tops, tablets, video games, refrigerators, microwaves, clocks and electric blankets. The list can go on forever. This place I’m talking about doesn’t have any of these items.

And as I make my personal journey, cruising past this mountainside, I watch as their day begins so differently from those of my loved ones back home. I think of some of my friends who are going off to class at a big university or my dad who is waking up from his king-size pediatric bed and enjoying a cup of warm coffee. I think of people who head to an early morning work out at a fancy gym or those walking into their multi-million dollar business wearing suits that cost more than some of these people shacks and the possessions inside. I think of the millions of people who will start their day by driving through a Starbucks drive-thru and the rest of us who will take our warm shower and sink to brush our teeth in for granted. I think of myself who had a hard time deciding what outfit to wear and totally took for granted the bowl of cheerios I had eaten before I headed out for the day.

But don’t you see, none of these people…none…of them will start their days like that.

No warm showers. No king-size beds. No closets overflowing with clothes. And especially no Starbucks coffee.

They will rise off the dirt floor or ragged sheet in their not-so-called homes (I’m sorry, but I don’t consider a construction of tarp, tin and scraps a home). They will begin their journey to fetch their day’s worth of water or pack their possessions to go sell at market. They will have to face the fact that another day of hurting and surviving is before them. Another day of heat, sweat, hunger, pain, illness, and all the unknown feelings of hurting, loneliness and grieving will have to be faced.

So, we read about their statistics. We hear how they are living. We have all heard about the “poor” and the “third-world countries”. And we have all said “I’m so thankful and feel so blessed,” but I’m officially fed up with that. Where is the guilt? The passion? Do you not feel absolutely sick to your stomach knowing that hundreds of children will go to sleep on this mountainside hungry and afraid. Can you imagine how many hidden stories of rape, abuse and assault are hidden in that mountainside? Then there are the mothers of these children. Having to face the dusk of another day tucking their kids into their not-so-real beds, because let’s be honest, none of us would be okay letting our own children sleep on the dirt earth floor. Can you imagine the rainy nights? The cries of the babies? I can’t. But it’s real, oh so real.

And we..what do we do? We just keep on cruising by.

The problem with this is that I’m so ashamed to say that I don’t even know a person that resides on that mountainside. I can’t even tell a personal story, but I know that this mountainside is a very real place in this world. It’s a very real and sad place. And it’s a place that I wish didn’t exist. It makes me so sad. It makes me feel guilty for the comfy bed that I will lie my head on tonight or the piece of chocolate I just enjoyed.

It’s a place full of people just like you and me. And it is people like us (the ones with the money, the power, the technology, the big ideas, the ones who are “changing the world”) who are allowing the people on that mountainside (the ones who had the unfortunate chance of having their homes and dreams crumble in an uncontrollable event) to continue living in such conditions.

I wish someone would come up with the answers, because I sure don’t have them.

What a sad place in a big and sad world.

A glimpse at the mountainside, something a picture can’t really capture.

I’ve once again been having an internal battle, but through the chaos of my day the battle has been resolved.

I’ve recently been feeling so puny, as if the work I’m doing here isn’t amounting to much. There are missions here in Haiti with such large numbers and statistics their impact is immeasurable. In this big world, in a country of mass poverty, in a small village with hurting, starving, and ill people am I even capable of making a difference? You may think I’m just searching for compliments here, but these are honest feelings.

I’m nowhere close to being equipped to do this. My degree in graphic design doesn’t help me when it comes to hungry babies. That’s my battle, my exact thought processes on most days. Usually laughing at myself, wondering how I’ve pulled off “being a missionary” for even this long.

In fact, today, a very proud and new father came to visit us at ViBella to announce the birth of his firstborn, a healthy baby girl. He’s a teacher at the school and such a great man; I was so excited for him and to hear about the arrival of a much-anticipated baby. But, after a few minutes, my mind went wondering and I began to think of what it will look like if I try to have a baby someday? I obviously wouldn’t want to have it in Haiti, not after seeing the conditions of these maternity wards. But, am I capable of leaving my two sons that I already have for more than two weeks? My heart ached from missing them only after two weeks over Christmas. Seriously, tears welled in my eyes as this crazy thought process swirled in my head. I’m half-embarassed just admitting that I think about these things, let alone almost cry over them.

I guess it is just a realization that I will never have a “normal life” again, and an over whelming feeling of “I’m too far in now.”

But…my day continued and after work I needed to go and visit grandma Antoinette and her granddaughter, Wilineda. Wilineda has a very strange lump in her inner thigh and today I sent her to have tests done at a clinic. Grandma didn’t have enough money to buy the necessary medication, so I popped by to make sure she had enough.

The path to grandma and Wilineda’s house is through the “garden” of Simonette. I’ve been led down the path plenty of times, but today was the first time I ventured alone. The path is narrow and a small stream interrupts the path, so a small leap is necessary. You have to walk over the roots of an amazing, ancient tree and climb through a narrow gate to enter their house. If you’re a first timer walking on the path, you may feel like you’re in some tropical rainforest or jungle, but the pig who greets you on the side will remind you that you haven’t left Haiti.

I find grandma sweeping her yard and Wilineda finishing a plate of hot rice. I’m greeted with kisses and ask for her to come see me tomorrow to let me know if she finds all the appropriate medication. I leave the house with Wilineda yelling “hey,” stopping me in my tracks, to turn around and find her waving me on my way. She’s such a sweet little friends.

As I skipped across the stream, I say a prayer to the Lord for Him to heal her leg. And then, I hear a whisper back, “Thank you for being my hands today, child.”

And that was all I needed. The competition. The internal battle. The feeling puny feelings are washed away because although no one was on the path with me today, Jesus was.

I don’t write this story asking for credit or a pat on the back, in fact, I loved that I experienced this moment all by myself today.  I share because it’s a reminder that no matter how small of an act of kindness we do or how big of a change we make, we are all but small servants serving an all-knowing and an all-loving and a never-changing and an ever-present God. No matter what rickety path we are walking, whether it be through the “garden” of Simonette or the sidewalk of Manhatten, He is there with us. Today. Tomorrow. And forever. That’s what He promises, when we are following Him.

May you hear His whispers and feel His presence, wherever you may be.

Love from Haiti.

You ask why I love serving in Haiti?

Let me tell you why…

I’ve been back at home in Haiti for ten days and I seem to never get a chance to just ease into things. It’s all in once upon arrival. Two days after I got back, seven guests from my church in Rock Rapids arrived. Out of the seven people, only two of them have visited Haiti before. Honestly, it makes me anxious to have visitors because it becomes my responsibility to keep them occupied, show them Haiti and make sure they have a good time.

And a good time we have been having! This past Saturday we were able to visit a small orphanage in a village about 10 miles north of Simonette. The orphanage was founded after an awful flood flushed the countryside in 2007. Afterwards, a Haitian man, Joel, became a caretaker to seventeen orphans. It was my first time visiting Joel and his orphanage with the team this past Saturday and my feelings were so mixed – I’m usually able to sort out my feelings quite quickly when coming upon new places here now.

I could see that Joel and the few other caretakers were doing their best, but their best amounted to shelter made of tin, a courtyard of dirt hills, clean beds, little tables with toothbrushes lined up straight and neat, and school uniforms hanging straight in the corner. Their best showed me that I could still give more, do more, and give up more.

only toy I saw on Saturday with a sweet baby girl

view of the orphanage with all the well behaved children

All the children were so well behaved, but when we left that morning, we left children all sitting with nothing to play with. So, as a team, over the past few days, we gathered a suitcase, four boxes and two bags full of toys! And today, we set out to deliver them…but on our way we embarked onto an unexpected adventure.

snapshot of our traffic

Beginning on the south side of the island, Haitians are trying to carry a HUGE tree across the country next to the border of the Dominican Republic. In the words of Webert, “they say they are carrying it because they want all Haitians to know how to unite to save the country.” Village by village, they are taking turns to carry the tree. They had made their way to Cabaret the same time we were making our way to the orphanage. We were stuck in traffic for close to an hour and at one point Webert, my mother and Linda DeBoer had even gotten out of the truck to see if they could make their way to see the tree!

We finally made it to our destination, all of us bringing a package of toys! The kids were so excited!

playing with all the new toys!

learning names of all the sweet kids

But we didn’t just see Jesus in the eyes of the children, we saw it in the lady who returned a team members lost prescription glasses, in the children who also received sponsored gifts that we passed out on the way and the other children who received handmade dresses and dolls that were sewn by ladies from back home.

But, my biggest “Jesus moment” was when we made our way to Mama Noel’s house to hand her daughter her Christmas gift from her school sponsor. We’ve started a new project with mama, I brought down fifty pounds worth of children’s clothing for her to start selling in market. I hope with these clothes, she will be able to start saving money in order to start selling fish, which is what she really wants to do. Her first day at it, was this past Monday and today was the first time I saw her. I could see it in her eyes, she had something exciting to tell me…she sold 600 Haitian dollars worth of clothes on her first day! (close to $75 worth!!) that’s a very big day, a very good day, an awesome day and an answer to prayers. Hopefully will be a way for us to reach and save for her goal.

So many good, God moments today and I’m so happy that the team got to experience them. I guess my anxious feelings should stop, because Haiti just has a way breaking, changing and capturing hearts.

sweet faces of Haiti

Love from Haiti.

Although I’m celebrating Christmas day in Iowa, we spent a lot of time in the past two weeks celebrating the birth of Jesus in Haiti.

At ViBella, we spent a day getting pedicures, having a nice meal together and each employee received new Bibles. At the school, all the staff reflected on all the great things that are happening on the mountaintop and talked about more ways to influence the students. We shared a meal together and each member of the staff received a small present also. Through Touch of Hope, we were able to bless over 35 sponsored children with gifts. Then, two Sundays ago, 24 of “my” Haitian village children gathered around two picnic tables to hear the story of Christmas.

Although people only know me as a mother of two, I would actually consider myself a “mama” to many of the children in Simonette. Most of these children have parents of their own, but when they have fevers, coughs, or scrapes they come to me for medicine. They always make sure to tell me when it is their birthday and I scramble to put a special package together for them. They’ve been the children that made me fall in love with Simonette from the beginning. They’re the kids that have been the best Creole teachers and taught me all about “village life”. They’re the ones who come running around the corner to greet me each morning as I walk to work. They’re my inspiration.

Last Christmas, we celebrated with them at our house so I guess it is becoming a tradition.

celebrating with the older girls who prepared the meal

The teenage girls and I cooked a Haitian meal together for all the younger kids and before we ate my friend Jean Marc helped translate and tell the Christmas story. After dinner we opened presents, which was made possible by all the faithful supporters who drop off donations at our house. We ended the night watching Madagascar 3 on the side of a building in downtown Simonette. It was a beautiful evening!

listening to the Christmas story

Let me introduce you to the rest of my “kids”….

sisters Emmanuella and Maslana

Webert’s niece and nephews: Tong, Pieusla and Mand

cousins who all live under the same roof: Kendzy, Alex and Calverson

little Galvens, whose mom is expecting to have a baby within the next month

only child Cherimand, who is being raised by her grandmother

siblings Benhamy, Verno and Roberta

sisters Dana, Freina and Seadley

brothers Thermens and Samuel

Mr. Guenson

sisters Becherlande and Gesperline

siblings Felicita, Chrisanto, Dieulina and Esperlito

siblings Samantha and Clarence

Aren’t they beautiful children?

As I sit and relax today, going through all my pictures, I’m reminded how truly blessed I am this holiday season. The past 7 months of living full-time in Haiti has been hard, challenging and I’ve seen so much already it seems like I’ve been living there for much longer. Yet the difficulty is overcome by simplicity and joy. The joy on these children faces should remind us all that it doesn’t have to take hundreds of dollars to bring joy; it can be the junk in your closets that can bring joy. (as I mentioned before all the gifts were donations)

I see the joy in the ViBella employees who are grateful to have a job everyday. The 700 students who have a school to go to. The 28 staff members who are influencing the next generation. My two boys who have someone to call “mama” and “papa”.

It is a joy that comes from a God who was so humble that he sent His one and only son to be born in a manger.  A son who would later die on a cross for our sins. It is a joy that flows from a God who reveals himself as never changing, ever faithful and truly graceful.

May these smiles and the season remind us of the simplicity in the Christmas story and bring us to our knees in adoration. May God bless you this season and in the New Year.

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas from Webert and I!

I just wanted to share some pictures of the new playground, which arrived Friday afternoon. None of the students knew we were receiving a playground, so when a large, white and enclosed truck pulled into our yard the kids gathered around it anxiously. When the big doors opened, they all cheered yelling “li jwet, li jwet!” (It’s for play!)

I’m astounded that this playground is the result of a little girls dream. All the way from Iowa, Lydia Lee raised all the money for this to happen. Lydia and the rest of her family will be traveling to Haiti next month to come play with our students.

It is all so exciting! Isn’t it beautiful!?

Every week day I work with seven Haitians and together we make jewelry out of recycled plastic. The jewelry we have been producing lately has gotten more complicated and intricate, but I’ve noticed more pride in the work as we check things off our “production list”. In fact, the other day I had to make a “priority list” of things to complete that are in high demands in the States. Viviane said quite bluntly afterwards, “no problem, we will get it done, we are awesome.”

There is such beauty in that pride. It is a pride that so few Haitians feel because they simply don’t have anything to take pride in.

It is something I’ve learned about the Haitian culture actually: once a person is trained to do one thing, that’s all they believe they can do for the rest of their lives. My one friend has been a driverall his life, when I asked if he could be a person who oversees and manages small projects for me he simply stated, “I don’t know, all I have ever been is a driver.” But he is so much more than that. It is just a matter of making them believe it. Growing up in a society that encourages the American dream and anything is possible theology, it is hard for me to wrap my mind around the the theology of oppression, poverty and no way out sort of living. A not-so-beautiful kind of life.

ViBella, though, is beginning to change this mindset. I make sure my coworkers know they truly are awesome, they are worthy of praise, and should be so very proud of their work.

Yesterday I had the chance to participate in a vendors fair here in Haiti and it was so encouraging to see what so many other people are doing to make life more beautiful for so many other Haitians.

I wanted to share some of my favorite ministries I got to connect with yesterday. To me, it isn’t a competition because all the glory goes to the same God. So, here are the links and consider buying unique Haitian gifts this year and help make life a little better for the people here.

ApParent Project:using discarded materials to make jewelry, journals and home decor.

2nd Story Goods: makes really unique stuff out of recycled, found items in Haiti.

Haitian creations: jewelry beads made with cloth, handmade purses and other Haitian art.

3Cords: social enterprise making sweet head bands, purses, computer covers and other gifts

And of course ViBella is my favorite, so don’t forget to visit our site for Christmas shopping too!! (www.vibellajewelry.com)

Love from Haiti

Remember the little warrior Job I asked you to pray for a few months ago?

Today I had the chance to visit him in his home orphanage. Not only was he sitting, eating and bright eyed he was laughing, talking and even chasing me in the court yard.

I stared at him in complete amazement as God whispered to me “I still make miracles happen everyday, my child. Don’t forget that.”

In a season of holidays and celebrating the best miracle that ever happened to human kind: Jesus Christ himself being born in a stable, don’t forget that miracles still happen.

Everyday.

Job is living proof.

Love from Haiti.