I’m not sure what captured my attention…his eyes or the determination with which he tackled cleaning our windshield with his dirty rag. When our SUV was temporarily stopped due to a traffic jam on the National Highway leading to downtown Port Au Prince, he had appeared from nowhere, jumped up on the side of the vehicle and began wiping away the dust from the windshield. This is a common occurrence in Haiti and an irritant to many drivers. These children expect a few pennies in Haitian currency for their efforts. But Freddie, our driver, patiently waited for the child to finish before handing him a bit of change and slowly moving ahead with the traffic. My thought was, “Today he will have something to eat!”
The following morning we were forced to stop at the same spot in the road. Quickly, the child from the prior morning was there with his rag and began to wipe down our windshield once again. This time I noticed not only the same grimy t-shirt at least two sizes too big hanging off his narrow shoulders, but the yellow in the whites of his eyes. Throughout that day his image kept coming to my mind, and I whispered a prayer that somehow someone would share Jesus with him before it was too late.
The third morning the traffic came to a standstill once again at the same location. Suddenly there he was with his dirty rag, climbing on the SUV to reach the windshield and clean it for us. I picked up my camera and focused it to take his picture, but the moment he spotted the camera he looked terrified and immediately jumped down from the vehicle. I quickly told Freddie, “Please call him back. Tell him I won’t take his photo.” Freddie did and somewhat hesitantly, the child came back, finished the job and received a few coins for his efforts from Freddie. I realized that somewhere this child had been told that if someone took his photo, they would be stealing his spirit…a voodoo belief. Thus the look of terror on his face when he saw the camera.
That whole week, each day we came to that spot in the highway, our little friend was there to meet us. On the last morning of our visit in Haiti, I had a handful of Haitian coins left. I told Freddie, “Let’s give all of these to our little friend if he is there this morning.” This morning, when he came there were also some other boys crowding around trying to get into the action. Since Freddie could speak Creole, he was able to point to our friend as the one to do the job. As soon as traffic began to slowly move, Freddie reached out the window and dumped a handful of coins this time into our young friend’s hand. The look on his face was worth every cent! It was like Christmas had suddenly come. I expected that he would quickly run off with his treasure, but as I turned to watch through the rearview window, there he was with the other boys crowded around him and he was giving each of them a share of his coins.
The image of him sharing with his friends has stayed with me through the years and caused me to pause and contemplate what would I have done in his circumstances? Would I have quickly shared? Or would I have justified keeping it for myself, after all, I had earned it! And now, how quick am I to share out of my abundance with those less fortunate?