All you need is love

By Guest Blogger: Kevin Hall

Awake at 5 a.m., earlier than the rooster outside my window can yell at me.
It’s going to be a long day, a grueling day. Up early to avoid the Haitian heat (it’s only 80 degrees before 8), we’re trekking 3-4 miles up a mountain with gravelly terrain and steep inclines. It’s hard on the lungs, harder on the knees.
But it’s good for the soul.Preparing for the journey up the mountain
Today was a special trip to Petit Bois, a neighboring village, to deliver “love bundles” packaged by various donors throughout the United States. The packages are age-specific, each containing hygiene items, an outfit, a toy and school supplies, and the village kids (and more than a few adults) come from miles around when word spreads the “blancs” (meaning “white,” which is what most everyone calls the American missionaries) are coming.Passing out the “love bundles” in Petit Bois

The church in Petit Bois, led by Pastor Millien, sent down people to help with the 175 bundles we were to deliver, so at 6 a.m., about 40 kids, five adults and 15 mules were ready for the haul. The kids each carried boxes of food from the Kids Against Hunger program, and as we struggled to make the trip up the mountain, our American whining would get muted watching them dash off without complaint.

A balancing act
First, though, it was time for the kids to just be kids.
Jon, my 8-year-old nephew, took full use of the mission’s swing set while the supplies were being stocked, and in a matter of seconds, the Petit Bois kids mobbed the playground like American teens cheering for the Beatles. Here the were, facing the trip up the mountain, loaded down with a box of food, and they only wanted to swing and smile.A girl watches with joy and amazement as Jon plays on the swing set
High atop the mountain
Three-plus hours later, drenched in sweat, we were atop the mountain, where we handed out the bundles to an appreciative group. Once the last bundle was passed out, the school kids performed a song for us, leaving us to head back on our journey with a joyful noise in our ears and hearts.
Pastor Millien
Pastor Millien gathered us into his office, where we re-energized with snacks and drinks before going back down the mountain. This man, weathered and wrinkled, his clothes too big for his small frame, asked to speak to all of us before we left. Through the use of an interpreter, he spoke as from the heart as anyone I’ve ever heard.
“To do what you’ve done today, to walk up the mountain, I wish there was some way to pay you, but I have nothing I can give,” he said. “All I have are my prayers for you. May God bless you.”We didn’t understand their words, but their eyes said it all
Pastor Millien told us that 275 kids attend his school (which he also oversees), many of whom cannot afford the annual fee: less than $4 in U.S money. Many cry daily because they’re hungry, because they know there’s no end to it in sight.
“I wish there was a word to thank you for what you’ve done today,” he said. “I wish there was something bigger than ‘thank you.’”
We are making a difference, and maybe not for just a short time. Sure, the food and medical treatment helps in the here and now, but more than anything, it seems we’re giving them a better shot at tomorrow and beyond. We’re not, in any way, trying to Americanize them or convert them with around-the-clock preaching. Instead (and this is the part that truly appeals to me), we’re simply loving them, unconditionally. If you’re dirty, we’re here. If you’re sick, we’re here. If we can’t understand you, we’re here. If you hate us, we’re here.
And what we’re offering is love.The beauty of it is, they don’t even realize what they’re giving us in return. Yes, there is a satisfaction out of helping someone, but it’s beyond that, so much deeper than that. What I appreciate is learning to look at things from a different angle, to remember what it’s like to sit on that swing for the first time, not sure what happens once you lift off the ground, but putting your faith into something greater than yourself that as you soar into the air, you’ll return safe and in one piece.
These words by Bruce Springsteen hit me as appropriate, wrapping up what I felt as I walked back down the mountain:
May your strength give us strength

May your faith give us faith

May your hope give us hope

May your love bring us love.
Amen.