Driving the 2 or so hours from the orphanage to the airport, you see a lot - I sit with my eyes glued to the window, getting a glimpse into the lives of average Haitians. As we neared the airport to fly home, we were turning the corner and I saw a big pig, sniffing through a pile of trash looking for food. Then, I looked next to the pig and was horrified when I saw a boy, probably not much older than my son. He was doing the same thing - sorting through a pile of trash looking for food. He was dirty, wearing no pants and his shoes were worn out.
When we arrived at the airport, I pulled out some snacks I was saving for our flight, and passed them off to our director, Jean Claude, and asked him if he would please deliver them to that boy, along with some bottles of clean water we left in the van. I don't know if he was able to find him or not, or if that boy went to sleep with the pain of hunger in his belly like so many in Haiti do every singe night. I can't get the image out of my mind.
