Be the Cause


Behold the dying

The debris grazing their faces

Blurred by massive waves, surging

Death draws close

Being released into the air and closer again

They are falling – dripping into water

Like cold stale fish

Behold the dying

Drenched hopes

Their people are drowning

Their neighbors are watching

We are not gasping for air

Yet we watch, breathless

Behold the dying

We extend an arm from afar

But there is much air between our hands

All we are ascends like a flood for you

But you cannot seize our reach

Behold the dying

River arising

Distress arising

Death toll arising

Tears descending

Behold the dying

Our brothers are terrified

Our sisters – Cholera, diarrhea, crisis

Our babies are a thirsting for water – clean water

Nakedness on your village streets

Behold the dying

Respect for the dying

Love for the dying

1,600; 20 million; innumerable

Nakedness, barren skin, being held under

Watery burials

Yet the spirits will boil up

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:

Long live HAITI. May it’s people rise.

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