Discovering Holiness in Haiti
by Nicole Baker

 

As a junior in college, most college students would spend their spring break on a beach or at someone’s family cottage, or even at home with friends where there are dogs. But I spent my spring break on a mission trip with 20 others from across the country in Haiti serving with the Missionaries of the Poor, and it changed my life.

 

Our first day in Haiti we were given a tour of the community of these brothers. We were brought into what I could only compare to the Garden of Eden. Entering the gates into the brothers’ community I was greeted with beautiful flowers, trees, and brightly painted buildings—but most importantly, so many smiling and happy faces greeted us. The brothers have four houses where residents stay and are taken care of. The houses hold elderly, children, those who are disabled, and a house for those affected by HIV/AIDS.

 

The next day (our first full day) we started our day with mass and an hour of adoration. Following a nice Haitian breakfast we went up to the houses for the days apostolate (work). We were assigned to groups and each group was assigned to a certain house for the morning. My group headed over to “Bethlehem” which was the house for children with disabilities. We met with the group of brothers that were already there and said a few morning prayers. Then it was time for assignments. One of the brothers pointed to two boys and started telling them about the help they’d need with mopping and cleaning up the building. Then he pointed to two girls and told them they’d be helping feeding. And finally he pointed to me and another girl and said: “diapers.”

 

I could feel my eyes bug out of my head and I just took a deep breath. Now, I’ve changed a diaper before, don’t get me wrong, but I was so nervous because I was terrified to do something wrong. But we got right to work. The other girl and I looked at each other, took a breath, and said “okay Jesus, if this is what you want us to do today . . . just help us.”

 

But we quickly found out the brother meant we would be putting on the clean diapers. This came as a relief, but as the week went on, I did end up changing a few diapers, and I definitely didn’t panic. That first day while working, I was a ball of anxiety. I’d never worked with anyone with a disability before and being thrown into a house of 50 children with a variety of disabilities was terrifying. But my heart was changed almost immediately after we finished helping with diapers.

 

I walked into what we called “the crib room” for the first time. And it’s exactly what you’d imagine a crib room to be. It’s a large square room: the walls are lined with cribs and there are two rows of cribs in the middle. Almost all of the children in these cribs had cerebral palsy. As I walked through the room I felt like I was dragging my feet through quicksand. I was hit with the overwhelming feeling that I needed to leave. I had no idea what I was doing there. How could I be of any help? I didn’t know anything about disabilities! I made a slow lap around the room and made it back to one of the doorways when I finally looked up and around the room.

 

One of my fellow mission trip mates was bent over a crib nearby rubbing a child’s arms and he was smiling up at her with so much joy. Another one of us was in the opposite corner with a child in his arms and they both were smiling and laughing at each other. I could’ve cried in that moment to see such raw sharing of life and that my friends were so fearless in sharing their love.

 

I ended up taking a child from another girls’ arms because he had been pulling at her hair and she was struggling to put him down. The second I took him into my arms he had wrapped his tiny legs around my waist and burrowed his face into my neck with no intention of letting go. I came back to this child throughout the week and he was happy when we came by with food and water but the instant you made to pick him up you could see his eyes shine with so much excitement.

 

One day I was holding him and I walked outside of the building onto the walkway and he squeezed his little legs around my waist and dug his nails into my neck he was so excited. We sat on the steps and I sang any and every song that came to my mind. He would go back and forth between snuggling into my shoulder and listening to me sing and giggling when I tickled him.

 

What struck me the most on this trip was how much we take each other for granted on this Earth. From the littlest baby to the oldest man I encountered in Haiti, they were so happy to have someone to spend time with. I saw Christ in all of those I encountered on this trip like I never have before. I saw Him in the children as they chased us around the yard, I saw Him in a woman’s eyes as I was helping lotion her hands in feet, and I saw Him in those who came on the trip with me. These 20 strangers I came with turned into a tightly bound group of friends in Christ. We laughed together, cried together, prayed, ate, and slept together. But what brought us all together? Why did we change? Why did the Haitians have a much bigger impact on our lives than we probably could ever have on theirs?

 

Because they taught us that the most important thing in life is caring for and taking care of those around you.

 

We are, each and every one of us, daughters and sons of Christ. Everyone has a past and a future; everyone has a path set out before them by God. We learned to love each other without holding anything back- the way that Christ loves us. We learned to love one another even though we all have our own problems. We can’t put loving others on hold because we have too much going on. Without a loving community around you, you will struggle, and you will fail.

 

In the same way, without opening yourself to Christ’s love in your life—you will struggle, and you will fail. I’m definitely not saying this is easy or simple. Just because you love does not mean you are exempt from pain. There is hurt and ache in the world because our humanity is broken. But without one another, and without Christ, how will you find solace? How will you find joy?

 

Msgr. Brownsey frequently explains it like this: We have a hole in our hearts. And we try to fill that hole with things that feel good- partying, relationships, good grades, a good paying job, etc. But no matter how much you do, that hole will not be filled, because it’s a God shaped hole. And we have to kick out all of that clutter to realize that God needs to come first in our lives.

 

But sometimes we need help along the way to realize this, or to have these experiences (like I did in Haiti) to fully realize this on our own. I would not have had this amazing opportunity to go to Haiti had I not been involved in the Newman Center. I joined a bible study on a whim at the end of my freshman year and dragged my feet through getting involved. Slowly but surely I met more and more people who have since been factors in my slow and rocky conversion towards Christ.

 

It may have kicked off with joining a small group but it truly starts with the ability to be open. Open to new opportunities, new friends, new ideas and beliefs you may not have experienced before, and most importantly: open to sharing life and love with those around you. The Newman Center prepared me for this radical experience I had in Haiti. I’ve been on retreats where I met new people, conferences with thousands of people, have had the chance to hear talks from famous speakers and my peers, and have been prepared with so much practice of talking and getting to know others that Haiti was like the icing on the cake of my spiritual education.

 

I have by no means learned it all, nor am I anywhere near perfect. But all of the opportunities I’ve had from the Newman Center have helped me become the person I am today and continue to show me the person that God is calling me to be. Sometimes following God’s plan starts with saying yes to His community here on Earth. You never know where you’ll end up… I never thought I’d go to Haiti.