THEY JUST DON'T KNOW ANY HUNGRY PEOPLE
(letter that announced Beyond Borders Spring 2005 newsletter)
It’s been a year since my wife and I left Haiti—where Merline had lived her entire life and I’d spent ten of the last fourteen years. Given the radical change, we’re frequently asked, “How’s the adjustment going?”
Recently my wife and I were running errands in Hershey, Pennsylvania, where we live now. The blue sky was beautiful behind rolling farmland. Taking all this in each morning as we drive through town provides an inspirational charge, something like a morning coffee buzz.
“I talked with Colette today,” Merline says. Now I feel a sudden heaviness. It’s always heavy when we talk about Colette, as it is when we discuss any of the dozen other close friends or family in Haiti with whom we’re in touch weekly via telephone or email. “She’s not too well. She’s hungry. She told me how she misses me. She remembers how I would always make sure she had a little something to eat every morning.”
“Is she still with her boyfriend?” I ask, hoping Colette has left the man who had been beating her.
“Yes. He pays for her school. She feels like she doesn’t have a choice.” Colette is twenty-three and hasn’t given up on trying to get a good education, though she wasn’t given much of a foundation; at fourteen she ran away from a home of persistent hunger and an abusive stepfather. But like two-thirds of Port-au-Prince, she is unemployed. And no school is free in Haiti. She’s way behind, now in the equivalent of 7th grade, which isn’t bad considering only one in four children completes primary school.
“I need to send her another check,” Merline says. “That would be good,” I say. The fifty dollars we send Colette from time to time is not insignificant to us; our expenses have tripled since leaving Haiti. But I know it will be a lifesaver for her.
A horn honks. “Look, there’s Jim and Deb!” We enthusiastically return waves to friends in the car across the intersection from us. The light turns and we pull out. How can we not notice their SUV, a model that sells for about $60,000? We can’t get over the how much money many Americans spend on fancy cars, children’s birthday parties, a night out, clothes… Merline’s words sum up what I’m feeling: “They’re good people. They just don’t know anyone who’s hungry.”
When Merline and I were living in Haiti, we sometimes felt our poor Haitian neighbors scrutinizing some of our purchases. At times I felt judged by this—but more often, I was grateful. It helped steer our money decisions. I know some folks feel judged by me (especially when I write letters like this). But we “haves” cannot escape history’s judgment for living amid unprecedented wealth while more than a billion people live in squalor.
If Merline and I lose our regular contact with people like Colette, we know we’ll be swept away by this materialistic culture. And I believe we’ll also lose a part of our humanity. We’ll lose the respect of our friends in Haiti, as well as some self-respect. We’ll find it harder to honor the image of God that is in every person, no matter their race or salary, citizenship or education level.
The theme of this newsletter is “honor and respect.” We exchanged these two words frequently with our neighbors in Haiti as a traditional Haitian greeting. Living up to these words in our relationships with our needier neighbors was always a challenge. The challenge is even greater now that we live so far away and are surrounded by such wealth. We’re grateful to be part of the Beyond Borders community, which helps us to keep our perspective and to continue our struggle to show all our neighbors—neighbors like Jim and Deb and Colette—the honor and respect they deserve as God’s children.
Thank you for being part of this community. We are so grateful for your generosity that makes possible the work highlighted in this newsletter. We also invite your gifts so that we can continue this work.
With honor and respect,
JohnEngle.info
TheExperiment.info
John@TheExperiment.info
(letter that announced Beyond Borders Spring 2005 newsletter)
It’s been a year since my wife and I left Haiti—where Merline had lived her entire life and I’d spent ten of the last fourteen years. Given the radical change, we’re frequently asked, “How’s the adjustment going?”
Recently my wife and I were running errands in Hershey, Pennsylvania, where we live now. The blue sky was beautiful behind rolling farmland. Taking all this in each morning as we drive through town provides an inspirational charge, something like a morning coffee buzz.
“I talked with Colette today,” Merline says. Now I feel a sudden heaviness. It’s always heavy when we talk about Colette, as it is when we discuss any of the dozen other close friends or family in Haiti with whom we’re in touch weekly via telephone or email. “She’s not too well. She’s hungry. She told me how she misses me. She remembers how I would always make sure she had a little something to eat every morning.”
“Is she still with her boyfriend?” I ask, hoping Colette has left the man who had been beating her.
“Yes. He pays for her school. She feels like she doesn’t have a choice.” Colette is twenty-three and hasn’t given up on trying to get a good education, though she wasn’t given much of a foundation; at fourteen she ran away from a home of persistent hunger and an abusive stepfather. But like two-thirds of Port-au-Prince, she is unemployed. And no school is free in Haiti. She’s way behind, now in the equivalent of 7th grade, which isn’t bad considering only one in four children completes primary school.
“I need to send her another check,” Merline says. “That would be good,” I say. The fifty dollars we send Colette from time to time is not insignificant to us; our expenses have tripled since leaving Haiti. But I know it will be a lifesaver for her.
A horn honks. “Look, there’s Jim and Deb!” We enthusiastically return waves to friends in the car across the intersection from us. The light turns and we pull out. How can we not notice their SUV, a model that sells for about $60,000? We can’t get over the how much money many Americans spend on fancy cars, children’s birthday parties, a night out, clothes… Merline’s words sum up what I’m feeling: “They’re good people. They just don’t know anyone who’s hungry.”
When Merline and I were living in Haiti, we sometimes felt our poor Haitian neighbors scrutinizing some of our purchases. At times I felt judged by this—but more often, I was grateful. It helped steer our money decisions. I know some folks feel judged by me (especially when I write letters like this). But we “haves” cannot escape history’s judgment for living amid unprecedented wealth while more than a billion people live in squalor.
If Merline and I lose our regular contact with people like Colette, we know we’ll be swept away by this materialistic culture. And I believe we’ll also lose a part of our humanity. We’ll lose the respect of our friends in Haiti, as well as some self-respect. We’ll find it harder to honor the image of God that is in every person, no matter their race or salary, citizenship or education level.
The theme of this newsletter is “honor and respect.” We exchanged these two words frequently with our neighbors in Haiti as a traditional Haitian greeting. Living up to these words in our relationships with our needier neighbors was always a challenge. The challenge is even greater now that we live so far away and are surrounded by such wealth. We’re grateful to be part of the Beyond Borders community, which helps us to keep our perspective and to continue our struggle to show all our neighbors—neighbors like Jim and Deb and Colette—the honor and respect they deserve as God’s children.
Thank you for being part of this community. We are so grateful for your generosity that makes possible the work highlighted in this newsletter. We also invite your gifts so that we can continue this work.
With honor and respect,
JohnEngle.info
TheExperiment.info
John@TheExperiment.info
posted by John Engle at 5/16/2005 02:28:00 PM
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