Stephen is 8. When you are 8 and your family moves to Haiti, it is a confusing adventure. On the one hand, it is exciting. Stephen finally has dogs (sure, they are guard dogs). Stephen's school classroom overlooks a soccer field he plays on before and after school. Haiti means wearing shorts all the time, collecting chicken eggs, feeding fish, being nearly the only white person in his school classroom, and having his big sisters around all the time to play "Skip-Bo" with him. Haiti is Sunday mornings with Dad home and having either a pancake or french toast breakfast all together.
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On the other hand, Haiti is confusing. Haiti is seeing poverty as we drive back and forth to school and church and shopping, and then seeing affluence among classmates whose parents drive them to school in Porsches and Lexuses (Lexii?). Haiti is living in the natural beauty of a tropical mountainside but having to block out much of the view with 8'-barbed-wire-topped walls. Haiti is colour and chaos. Haiti is seeing broken down vehicles -- every day, and broken down streets all the time. Haiti is seeing devastating poverty decorated with more Lottery shops than you can imagine.
Tonight as I was tucking him in, he was talking about what he missed about Canada (mostly because he was really missing his sister Kristin who is still in Canada in school in Winnipeg until December). As he shared what he missed, he talked about the way he used to play with Matthew across the road, or how he didn't see all kinds of poor people all the time.
Somehow, we started talking about heaven, about a place/time where/when everything is good all the time, not a dream but a reality. Like how in heaven there won't be barbed wire or locked gates at the ends of our driveways and we can go down the street and play with anyone. Like how in heaven there won't be anyone poor or anyone feeling bad or anyone not kind.
Then he said something profound, the way only an eight-year-old can. "Dad, I wish that whoever invented money would have thought to share it better around the world so that there wouldn't be places with too much money and there wouldn't be places where there wasn't enough."
Yeah, me too, bud. Me too.
That would be heaven. Until then, it is all of our job to spread a little heaven until one day, there will be no more room for hell on earth.
On the other hand, Haiti is confusing. Haiti is seeing poverty as we drive back and forth to school and church and shopping, and then seeing affluence among classmates whose parents drive them to school in Porsches and Lexuses (Lexii?). Haiti is living in the natural beauty of a tropical mountainside but having to block out much of the view with 8'-barbed-wire-topped walls. Haiti is colour and chaos. Haiti is seeing broken down vehicles -- every day, and broken down streets all the time. Haiti is seeing devastating poverty decorated with more Lottery shops than you can imagine.
Tonight as I was tucking him in, he was talking about what he missed about Canada (mostly because he was really missing his sister Kristin who is still in Canada in school in Winnipeg until December). As he shared what he missed, he talked about the way he used to play with Matthew across the road, or how he didn't see all kinds of poor people all the time.
Somehow, we started talking about heaven, about a place/time where/when everything is good all the time, not a dream but a reality. Like how in heaven there won't be barbed wire or locked gates at the ends of our driveways and we can go down the street and play with anyone. Like how in heaven there won't be anyone poor or anyone feeling bad or anyone not kind.
Then he said something profound, the way only an eight-year-old can. "Dad, I wish that whoever invented money would have thought to share it better around the world so that there wouldn't be places with too much money and there wouldn't be places where there wasn't enough."
Yeah, me too, bud. Me too.
That would be heaven. Until then, it is all of our job to spread a little heaven until one day, there will be no more room for hell on earth.
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