Be the Cause

Lamp for Haiti

Zeke drives cautiously through the mangled, rubble-strewn streets into a seaside slum village, just 20 minutes from the city of Port au Prince. Heavily armed UN guardsmen stand blatantly bearing AK-47’s in the middle of the drive. The Haitian people meander about, selling their wares & wiping their perspiration off their brow. Miles & miles of drab tents line the flattened streets here, along with broken-down vehicles & garbage on fire.

We are in Cite Soleil – a town notorious for its Haitian street gangs. No one cares much for the slums of Cite Soleil.

With angst we exit the truck & follow Zeke as he blazes through a maze of narrow alleyways & tight corners to reach our destination – a crumbled little building called the Lamp Pour Haiti Clinic, the only one of its kind in these obscure parts.

The cupboards are fairly stark – a few antibiotics & analgesics are strewn about, some used gauze carefully stacked up in a corner & half-empty Aspirin bottles carefully lined up against the back wall.

Dr Jeremy sits intently examining a hand-written note in one of the exam rooms. Three Haitian nurses fill prescriptions in a dark 12×12 room off to the side, as we arrive with two duffel bags filled to the rim with medications & first aid supplies spilling out of the zippers.

Regine & Mimi – both managers at the clinic, kissed & hugged us upon arrival. I didn’t think a bagful of meds could cause such celebration, but, gratitude is given such dimension out here.

I have to tell you, these heroes of Lamp, are a gift of life. Let me introduce them to you:

Regine, a beautiful 24-year old girl, studied law in Boston & decided to return to her homeland to serve her people. I am amazed at her courage & grit. She checks blood pressure & pulse in the waiting area while the Dr prepares for his patients.

Mimi, the loving & caring ‘mother’ of the clinic manages its day-to-day operations. She ensures that funds are raised, meds are kept stocked, & children in the area are frolicking about giving life to the community.

Jim Morgan/Tom Griffin, These two life-giving folks witnessed the depravity of Cite Soleil & decided to dedicate their time, resources & passion to serve the people. They fly out to Haiti, from Philly, once a month to consult & treat patients.

Now these folks need you & I – they run on donations & a whole lot of hope. There is much the clinic lacks in way of supplies, staffing & sustainability.

If you’re a medical professional & would like to volunteer a week or two or more, please let me know & I’ll give you Regine’s email address.

If you have access to meds or hospital supplies and/or would like to donate the 3-page list of items they asked of us, email me.

In the meantime, please give them a glance at: www.lampforhaiti.org.

Long live HAITI. May it’s people rise.

Words

I cant put into utterance really

Scribblings, one-dimensional expressions

They often disappear into an abysmal place

Words aflame – giving witness to its cremation

Its carbon enters my nostrils – roving around in there

Like a narcotic in a strung out addict,

The ashes leave a powdery trace on my prints

The soot of toxic words, juice through my veins,

And yet dance against the smoke signals of my sadness

A basin undertakes all the blackened remnants that refuse to rise

And the charred paper sits quietly on the bottom

Some words don’t catch fire – they keep alive

As bittersweet reminders of my distress and ache

But I write still; a profusion of words

Spilling, betraying, divulging the recesses of the heart

And they glare back at me,

Like gaunt stick figures in a concentration camp

The burial ground of the scripted mind works quickly

Feverishly, hastily tap tapping words on the white

Like a lightening bolt surging through those over-used fingertips

Electrifying verbs and phrases sparring at each other

And the pen retreats itself from the ferocity of white

I lay it down and observe its handiwork

An unsightly sore, a painful contusion lies before me

Yet those are mine own words, my own affliction.

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