the little girl that broke my heart.

the little girl named Edine.

her tiny hand with the wrist IV resting on a bag of Medika Mamba.

Today my heart broke. I had to swallow the tears and force a smile and gentle touch. 

As you know, we are working in a malnutrition clinic. Today things were going as normal, we were checking children and giving out food supplements, and a Haitian nurse came running up asking me if I spoke French and English and if I could come with her. I said I spoke English, grabbed a translator, and followed her into the “pediatric ward.” [if that’s what you could call a dingy, humid room of cots crammed together, lit by 2 single bulbs… flies swarming everywhere.] 

There lying in a cot was Edine. A 16 month old little girl who weighed next to nothing. The skinniest human being I have ever seen. Skin was just sagging where there should have been muscle and fat. I asked the mother why she was in the hospital – dehydration, she said. I then asked what she fed the little girl at home and if they had clean water. She said and I quote… “I don’t feed her, I just give her some water. It’s not clean.” 

As we talk through the translator, the little girl’s hand keeps reaching out for the cup of water her mom is holding. The mom will halfheartedly allow the girl to hold it, but then casually pull it away. By this point, I am fighting tears and struggling to keep the “blanc doktre” [white doctor] composure – we have to earn their trust if we are to help. But inside I am raging- THIS BABY IS DYING. FEED HER, GIVE HER WATER!!!!! Compassion on the mother is hard for me, though I remind myself, perhaps she had nothing to eat either. 

A few minutes later, John and I returned to do a more through check up and enroll Edine in our malnutrition program. We measured the circumference of her upper arm- an indicator of malnutrition, it’s the smallest we’ve had yet. Praise the Lord, as we explained the program, Edine’s mother allowed us to enroll her. However, when we gave little Edine a taste of the medical peanut butter she wouldn’t eat it… once the food was in her mouth she didn’t know what to do with a tangible substance and thus kept spitting it out. Heartbreak again. 

This little girl is dying. John and I knelt to pray with the mother and the baby… Heartbreak once more. God is who this child needs to save her. Please join with us is asking God to give her life, to help her eat, to help her grow… to help her survive. Maybe one day she may look back to see the day God rescued her.

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It is amazing how these people and this place seep into you... how a little girl you can't even talk to, can change your heart and bring on tears in less than a minute. And it is amazing how God can show up in the midst of a run down Haitian hospital with His compassion and beauty. I pray as He softens my heart, He strengthens my passion to help bring His healing for this land. 

thank you for your prayers.

both wrecked and rebuilt,

Brittan