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The other day in Port-au- Prince, I was followed
by a little boy with his palm out asking for money,
just a few coins, a little change, please. These are
among the times I struggle most living here in Haiti,
and even |
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Kris
(right) with several friends.
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after five years, I still don’t feel I’ve
developed a good response to the people asking for
things. But this particular boy helped me discover
why I find these
moments so difficult. He was only asking for a little
change. Sure, he meant for me to put a few coins into
his hand, but more than that, he wanted a change from
having to sleep on the streets, from the frequent
fights fending off others who would like the same
coins he had in his pocket, a chance to go to school,
for a change.
It’s easy to walk through a new neighborhood
and drop a few coins into an outstretched hand. But
I wrestle
with how to address the immediate needs that a little
change can satisfy without undermining or neglecting
the bigger changes necessary for building a world
where children don’t have to beg for their survival.
Short-term and long-term needs battle for our attention.
Should we focus limited resources on feeding people
who are hungry today or on helping develop the capacity
for people to feed themselves tomorrow? Resolving
the conflict between our world’s short and longterm
needs requires more than incremental changes. What
is needed is nothing less than a deep transformation
in our societies and in ourselves.
Living in a Haitian community has demonstrated to
me that this transformation grows out of relationships
and
shared experiences across cultural, racial, and economic
borders. As we live together and understand one another’s
realities better, we each are changed. Perspectives
and possessions we once needed may no longer seem
as important, and the deeper needs we may have neglected
often become clearer to us. Answers that once seemed
obvious are no longer so simple, and problems that
seemed without solution begin to open up to new possibilities.
The kind of love that Jesus calls us to will not lead
all of us to move to Haiti, but it will inevitably
lead us to step out of our comfort zone, to relate
to people we might typically overlook, to spend time
in neighborhoods we wouldn’t ordinarily visit,
to read books that challenge our assumptions and amplify
the voices of those we might not hear otherwise. As
we share in the lives of those who are different from
us, the labels we have used to
classify and distance ourselves from them, tired old
words like “poor,” “homeless,”
and “beggar,” will disappear from our
vocabularies and be replaced with individual names
of neighbors who we count as precious
in God’s sight. The kind of transformation we
are called to is not a single event. It is something
that grows within as we love and live with others
who are different from us. The challenge is for us
to keep our hearts and
minds open and to live in such a way that those who
live and think differently from us can change us.
The little boy in Port-au-Prince that day was right
to ask for change… change for himself and change
for me. I wish the change only amounted to a little
pocket money. From now on I will see this boy’s
outstretched hand as an invitation to a relationship,
to the kind of relationship that can transform me
and transform our world.
Kris Stoesz
is on staff with Beyond Borders there. She is an experienced
elementary school teacher and is currently focusing
on the development of Haitian teachers.
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Beyond
Borders has the highest rating (4 stars) from
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