During our time in Haiti in 2015, our mission team brought bags of rice and beans with us to distribute among the families in need. As we began our route to distribute the bags, we stumbled upon a tarp hung over tree limbs, the “home” of Golmon. Our team tried to squeeze inside his “home,” but only a few could fit. The floor was dirt, the walls were old tarp trash bags, and his bed was a slab of wood.
It was another day and another trip to the village where we were greeted my some familiar faces. When we hiked our way through the gravel trail and finally reached our destination, we noticed a young father standing in front of his home. He had a crying toddler running around his porch but most noticeably, he had a baby in his arms that was covered in soars. The whelps and soars all over his body could be seen even from a distance away. He’s baby was very weak and overheated.
We were just a group of twenty-somethings traveling through the lush Haitian countryside on our last day in country. In hopes we would find a village that could use our resources, we packed some clothes, food, and goodies that we could disperse as we trotted through the hills on a search for people that we heard were in desperate need. We knew we had arrived at the right place when children came running up wearing scraps if any clothes at all. We slowly walked deeper into the community of barely standing huts. Once we were spotted, Men, woman, and children flocked in a matter of seconds reaching their hands in to grab what left we had brought to give.