Angel Travels Haiti: Part Two

During our visit to Maison D’Amour (House of Love), our girls’ orphanage, we were treated to a delicious lunch and the girls regaled us with an entertaining talent show. Suddenly, one of the housemothers got up and came before me and sang a beautiful ballad in Spanish in recognition of my own heritage. Later, during a “free for all” dance segment of the talent show I was dancing with said lady and at the end of the song, I spun her slowly and carefully dipped her, as she innocently kissed me on my cheek. All the girls went crazy, screaming with delight, laughing and clapping. I have a feeling that this housemother will be in for a lot of teasing from the girls as a result of this special moment.

We visited Cardinal Ledger Hospital, once a center for those with the dreaded disease of leprosy, but now, because of the reduction in numbers of those afflicted, the hospital caters to those with a variety of maladies. We met a young woman with a frightening psychological disorder: she pulled out and ate her own hair. She ended up with a large clump of hair in her stomach that the acids there could not dissolve (we saw the x-rays). It would have to be removed surgically. When I spoke to the young lady she was gentle and sweet. I felt for her when I considered her double burden of mental illness and poverty.

Here I also met a young nun that exuded beauty and radiance, both physical and spiritual. She reminded me of Sor Juana Inez de la Cruz, a lady in waiting for the wife of the Viceroy of Mexico in the 17th Century. She was known both for her amazing beauty and for her tremendous intelligence. She received numerous proposals from noble gentlemen of that court, but refused them all and chose instead the holy orders of the religious life. She was a feminist (admittedly early) and a talented and popular poet of the Hispanic world. All this being said, it was another woman there who truly captured my heart.

I was walking around the ward when I saw this very old woman (easily in her eighties) just lying there listlessly. I approached her bed and saw that her disease had left her no fingers on her hands. Her foot was bandaged and there was some sign of oozing from that wound and the smell was not very pleasant. I spoke to her in Creole for a few minutes and she barely responded. I looked at her face and realized that it belonged to someone that once had been considered lovely. I told her that she was a beautiful woman, and suddenly, as if energized by an injection of mega-vitamins, she sat up on the bed with a fluid movement and replied with a flirtatious tone, “If you had known me when I was truly beautiful, you would have stolen me away.”

By this time, everything about her had been transformed. I could tell by the new sparkle in her eyes and attitude of her body that she had traveled in her mind to that time of her life when she was indeed beautiful and the truly amazing miracle is that she was able to capture that beauty again. She was transformed and I could see nothing but beauty in her. She jumped out of bed, held my hand and walked around with me. We hugged and took pictures together. The time came to bid farewell, but I left behind a piece of my heart with my beautiful Clotilde.