|
"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly;
what is essential is invisible to the eye"
THE LITTLE PRINCE
Antoine de Saint Exupery "Thank you for saving my life" she said one day. It's a line from the movie, Beauty and the Beast. Just two months before, Faustina didn't speak English and now she
acted like she really knew what she was talking about. She arrived by Life Flight in October for open-heart surgery. She is the 59th
child that Dr. John Carroll has brought to the United States for medical care. I accepted her thanks on behalf of a large number of people. You see, amazing things happen when a few determined souls come together.
When I go to the airport to pick up my little Haitian, I take a booster chair or car seat, a jacket, some food, and a toy or doll. You can clearly see a mask of fear, excitement, and apprehension on their
faces. They are in a strange place, with strange people, and everyone is speaking to them in a foreign language. John often has one very sick child that needs to go directly to the hospital from the airport.
When these children come to my house they are sick, scared, sometimes homesick, and hungry. They speak Creole, I don't! So I talk non-stop. I use body language, sing songs, show them movies,
and I act out the activities of daily living. Peoria is a real culture shock for them. They aren't used to our weather, they can hardly believe there is so much food to choose from, and they are enchanted by
hot and cold running water. Everything is new and fascinating to them including McDonalds, snow, escalators, automatic doors, stores, etc.
It's a big responsibility having someone else's sick
child. I often think about how the parents in Haiti can deal with letting their child come to America. Their children are always good-natured, well-behaved, quiet, obedient, and brave. They don't ever
complain and they hardly ever cry. We always tell them that their family in Haiti won't recognize them because they are a "different" child when they go home.
Joueles has hydrocephalus. His
head weighed about as much as his frail body. He was abandoned on a curb in front of Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity. They cared for this baby until he was brought to the attention of Dr.
Carroll. Joueles came to Peoria in the spring of 1995. His age was unknown but we guessed that he was about 18 months old. He stayed with us off and on for 13 weeks. This child didn't do anything
when I first saw him. His body hardly moved, but his large brown eyes followed all the activity around him. His peripheral vision was amazing. We taught him to talk, sing, play, eat, roll, and
scoot. This "lost cause" is now a prosperous boy who loves talking, laughing, and school. He has been adopted and lives in West Peoria.
Schneider is a 3-year-old boy who needed heart
surgery. He was very active and he really didn't let his condition slow him down. The Missionaries of Charity Sisters had to soft tie him in his crib for his own safety. He had a curiosity that was
never ending, so he was always on the go. When his tiny brown face erupted into a smile and his eyes sparkled you couldn't help but fall in love with him. He stayed with us for about five months in 1997.
Mejeanne is a five-year-old girl who was taken to a voodoo doctor for treatment of a high fever. He doused her with some kind of solution, which included alcohol, to bring the fever down. Later that night,
she fell in an open fire pit burning her upper torso, including her face, arm, leg, and chest. She has a vivacious personality and loved watching movies from the Video Store. She is very smart and extremely
brave. The plastic surgery on her face was done in stages, so she stayed with us for nine months.
Nine-year-old Mike Moise desperately needed heart surgery. He came in October 1999 and stayed for
six months. He was very homesick so he carried a picture of his family around with him and cried for about two months. He had an Atrial-Septal defect, a hypoplastic right ventricle and pulmonary
stenosis. He was operated on early in the morning, was re-opened in PICU a few hours later, and had a severe reaction to some medication the next day. None of us quite know how to act in the face of a
miracle.
Eight-year-old Faustina also suffered from a heart defect. Any activity left her breathless and hurting. She stayed with us during the day, Monday through Friday for three
months. She spent a lot of time watching movies with a Caribbean or French accent, like Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and Madeline. When she first came she found no enjoyment whatsoever in toys
or television because she was so sick and had no energy. About two weeks after her surgery she started to smile, laugh out loud, and play with toys and dolls. She loves to sing and dance. She returned
to Haiti with five other heart patients on January 16, 2001.
These are the five children who have stayed at my house in the last five years and who have been given a second chance at life. This is due
to the kindness, compassion and generosity of my friend, Dr. John Carroll. John is an emergency room physician at OSF. He fell in love with the Haitian people during his first trip to Haiti in 1981.
John is very passionate about the Haitians and their health problems. He gives of himself to buy them time, one child at a time, so that these poor, helpless and dying children can have a brighter and healthier
future.
These children have been brought here for surgeries that are not possible in Haiti. These patients often have serious and complicated heart problems, hydrocephalus, facial deformities, cancer,
sickle cell anemia, serious malnutrition, severe scarring from burns, eye problems, and various parasitic, bacterial, and viral infections. He only transports the kids who have a chance, only the healthiest of the
sick children are considered. A lot of their recovery involves just getting good nutrition.
The Haitian Hearts Program is a cooperative effort between OSF St. Francis Medical Center and The Children's
Hospital of Illinois. Since Haitian Hearts was formally organized last year, we have raised over $403,000.00 for the Program. We have been pledged another $100,000.00 for the year 2001 so the program can
continue. Donations stay here in the area to help pay for post-operative medications and other incidental costs. Each child requires approximately $25,000.00, for their medical care in Peoria. Donations can be
sent to Haitian Hearts, c/o Children's Hospital of Illinois, 530 N.E. Glen Oak Avenue, Peoria, IL 61637.
Families in our community commit to caring for these children with the same love and compassion they
have for their own family members. This makes a lifelong impact on each child's future and on our own.
There is a ripple effect for the host families, friends, cousins, siblings, grandparents,
aunts, uncles, friends, and even strangers. People follow us around in stores and ask questions. We have affected people at the hospital, in church, throughout the community and beyond. People get involved
because these children have a certain magnetism. I don't know if there is a scientific or medical explanation for this but your heart opens up and you can't help but be attracted. There have been many unexpected
rewards and trials involved in their care, but we get back much more than we give. God continues to bless us for our work. We are learning the real meaning of the words, dedication, compassion, courage,
faith, patience, and love.
There is a saying about entertaining angels unaware. At this point we can clearly see that we have been feeding, clothing, nursing back to health, and entertaining these
"angels'. Many people in the area generously give their time, love, home, prayers, and money. There is no doubt in my mind that our efforts have impacted the lives of these children, their families, the host
families, and anyone else who has been fortunate enough to be involved with the Haitian Hearts Program.
It is very difficult to let these "angels" go back to Haiti. My husband, my three teenagers, and I
become very attached to them. We think about them often, knowing that we will never see them again, and oftentimes we can't track them to find out how they are doing. So we cherish each photograph as the
only means of remembrance.
When I hugged Faustina to tell her good-bye, she pulled my face down and whispered in my ear, "Don't be sad, I'll see you in Heaven."
By Mary Kay Hersemann, Host Mother, Volunteer Fund Raiser |
