Thursday, March 10, 2011

Day...Four? Five?

What do you say about a place that is so differet than everything you are used to? It's not as if I have never seen poverty before. It is not as if I have never been in a third world country before. I have seen the broken, I have seen hurt...

but I have never known hurt...

brokeness...

lonliness...

poverty...

...and even now...even though I have heard the stories from little cards we tag onto these beautiful beads the Hatian people here are making, even though I have heard personal stories from Corgan and his wife Shelly, even now...

Can I truly say that I have known and understand the hurt and brokeness here? Nothing is truly first hand with our launguage barriors and my white skin hightning our walls of seperation...

It's strange here.

Beautiful.

But the strangest thing is the overwelming joy I see in the eyes of the people here.

Eyes don't lie.

The smiles on their faces...even though by American standards they are the poorest of the poor but...they aren't. They have something beautiful. Something many Americans have lost...

How is this possible?

-Rachael