A Heart Full of Wanderlust

I visited the small, coastal island of Haiti. Our mission was to listen and tend to the orphans in Haiti that needed food and clothing. This was my first big step in feeding the hungry traveler inside me. With new journals and an excited heart, it was off to Haiti. The first few days in Haiti were spent working with several orphanages and helping to feed the children there. They were just like American children, our common language was just through bright smiles and affectionate touches. Every night after we returned to the guest house, my friend and I would spend an hour journaling our thoughts, what we saw throughout that day, sharing stories and crying over the brokenness of this country. On the fourth day of our missions in Haiti we rode up to the mountain country. We visited several street shops that were literally centimeters off a bustling road. Even though I did not speak the language, it never presented itself as a massive issue. I think smiling and nods, touches and hugs, are a common language enough that any human, no matter where on the planet, understand. On the fifth and final day in Haiti, we visited the Caribbean sea. There was a man that owned a tiny shanty right on the beach. The beach is not one like we know beaches to be. This was almost a desert type beach with short trees littered everywhere. The man of the house had three wooden boats. They were hand-carved, yet sturdy enough to fit five comfortably. He took us out in the cove area his house was situated in. In a fifteen minute boat ride, my life was dramatically changed. I turned around and looked back at the country of Haiti, and through it’s damage and brokenness, I found hope. A storm had been getting ready to roll in, so lightning flashed above the mountains in the background, and the sky above the ocean was on fire from the impending sunset. Maybe it was the clash of these two contrasting colors, or maybe it was the fact that one part of the sky was calm while the other was ominous that I found it’s revelation to Haiti. Haiti in one’s mind could be seen as ominous, dark and hopeless. But if one looked to the other side of Haiti, one could see hope and new life blossoming in the midst of the destruction. Through my journey to Haiti, my heart has been changed permanently and my love for writing has been secured in a way I never would have imagined.