My boys

We have a couple of brothers who hang around our mission and guesthouse. Their mom died and they are not sure who their father is, so they are effectively orphans. Too street smart for an orphanage, they are sponsored through Mission of Hope. Now, anyone who knows me knows that one of the defining traits of my personality is my ridiculous need to mother everyone around me all the time. These boys are no exception. I (predictably) have fallen hard for them and time spent with them is consistently a highlight of my day.

Dieury, the older brother has this profound pride in his country and his culture that makes a fierce joy swell in my heart. It is rare that I come across people who want to tell me about Haiti’s strengths, but Dieury does. He loves Haitian food and music and takes great pleasure in telling me about them. He is also currently my Kreyol tutor. Since he is the most honest person here when it comes to correcting my pronunciation and sentence structure, it is a perfect set up. Dieunison is the younger brother and one of the most charming (and manipulative) kids I have ever met. He has moments of absolutely disarming sweetness that melt me into a puddle, like when he came into my clinic this week to do his homework, sounding out the words as he worked his way through the assignment. He also has moments that make those around him want to pull out our hair in frustration, like when he spent an afternoon in time out after wreaking havoc on the workspace of the women who were cooking.

Loving these boys means lectures about hygiene habits and regular reminders that you have to bathe every day. With soap.  It means affirming how handsome they look in their school uniforms, straightening collars and making them pose for pictures they (pretend to) hate. It means consequences for misbehavior and barefoot soccer until the sun goes down. It means hide and seek and gifts of almonds and laughing until tears streak down my face. It means a concrete reason to hope for the future of this country I love so deeply.