Poor, poor Haiti

I was feeling sorry for our country until the 7.3 earthquake hit Haiti earlier this week. It's a sad reminder that no matter how bad things are, there is always someone worse off than you. Unless you live in Haiti, where for entire lifetimes - in our hemisphere at least - there is no one worse off than you. And now, as bad as it was (and it had been improving), it is much worse.

My husband spent part of his childhood in Haiti, as the son of a US AID worker with the US State Department. He remembers a poor country with a vibrant heart. The sounds of drums lulled him to sleep at night. The beaches were the most beautiful of his memories. The mountains held the promise of mystery.

As an adult my husband often meets Haitians who are always surprised to hear him sing the Hatian National Anthem. Haitians are always happy, graceful, spirited and, above all, KIND people.

So today I put away my whining about our economy, our political wrangling over health care options, my concern for where I will spend my next vacation, and I think of Haiti. It's lovely country, now covered in ruin. It's joyous people, now desperate in need. I direct my attention away from the tv and focus on matching gift programs that will generate double what we are able to contribute to help Haitians recover from this catastrophic event. I hold in my heart the story of the "windy goats" and the warmth of the sun on a glorious beach, and the sound of a strong voice singing a happy song.