Three of the new babies in Chambrun!

Today I'm sharing a blog that my friend Katherine (we live and serve together at NVM) wrote.  There are so many times when people ask me questions that I have no answers for.  This is just a glimpse into what clinic was like this last week.  I feel so blessed to serve with Katherine and Leslee (another nurse that works at NVM)!

Written by: Katherine Clancey (www.katherineclancey.wordpress.com)

 I’ve heard people say things like, “Now I’m socially awkward. I feel like I can’t relate to people and I never know what to say when they ask about Haiti.” “Why are you so angry (sad/depressed/upset/doubting)? My friends have gone on mission trips and they came back excited and happy and feeling really close to God.” “Yeah she liked her trip there but it was just a trip, she’s not going to move there or anything.” I just got back from a quick trip to the States. It was a wonderful time of rest. I drank a lot of Starbucks, I watched a lot of HGTV, and ate more than my fair share of fresh fruits and vegetables. I spent a lot of time with loved ones and I enjoyed the freedom of being able to go anywhere, at anytime, sometimes even by myself. By the time I got back to where I live in Haiti, it was late Sunday night. A full week was ahead of me. Let me walk you through it.
Monday: My ears spent the day readjusting to Creole. Every time someone spoke to me, my brain kept shutting down because it’d had the luxury of thinking and speaking one language for a few days. So, I spent all day forcing myself to calm down and listen. Ah, the joys of continually learning a second language ☺ We went down to the village that afternoon and a few minutes after we had arrived, a woman came over and told us someone was sick. When she pointed over to our friend’s house, we were confused. Brooke, Leslee, and I entered her home. She sat on the ground holding her baby. After my eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting, I saw that her once plumpy and thriving son was now severely malnourished. The three of us sat down on the dirt floor next to her and listened. She explained she didn’t know what was wrong, he had been crying a lot and someone had told her to stop breastfeeding him because her milk was no longer good. While she was talking, the baby reached his twig like arms up and clasped his fingers together. His eyes, which looked abnormally large on his sunken face, traced this movement like any normal 7-month-old would do. As I sat there on the floor with this woman, covered in dirt, searching for what to say because I didn’t know why either I thought, “Yesterday I was drinking Starbucks. How do you ever explain moments like this to people?”
Tuesday: Our friend brought her malnourished son through our clinic and we gave them supplies to go to the hospital immediately. We told her she needed to speak strongly to the hospital workers, to fight for her son to be admitted. There are too many sick children and not enough resources; hospitals can’t admit every sick and malnourished child that comes by. As soon as she left we went to take care of a young woman whose family members had carried her in. A year ago she’d started having seizures multiple times a day and was now blind, deaf, and unable to walk because of them. I watched as she cried out in confusion, her family members helping her go to the bathroom and cleaning her up. We gave her IV fluids and we gave her seizure medication. The brain damage that had already been done was permanent. They took her back home.
Wednesday: Several of the women have been pregnant down in the village, and that afternoon we were going to meet another new baby. I felt privileged to enter our friend’s house and see her smiling and holding her baby. I gave her a kiss and she said her stomach hurt but otherwise she felt ok. Her toddler daughter came walking in and pushed through the crowd of kids to get closest to her new brother. I asked the girl if she knew who the heck this baby was her mom was holding, and both her mother and I giggled when the little girl nodded. But, as we walked back that day I couldn’t help but confess to Brooke and Leslee what’d I been thinking for a few months. I watched each of these women as they were pregnant, watched their bellies get bigger with life, and watched them hold their newborn babies. In my mind, I kept counting, “One, two, three, four babies…and statistics say…so which one will die?” They nodded in agreement that this was a frightening yet true thought. I silently prayed that God would not let these babies become statistics.
Thursday: I handed a patient’s chart to Brooke and then turned around to see a woman half-dragging her husband into the clinic. As I started my physical assessment, his wife told me that 4 days ago he’d had a really high fever and then a seizure. After the seizure his muscles had been contracted like this with immense pain. All of the nurses were thinking the same thing, “Why did they come here? That’s not just a cold or an infection, they should’ve saved their money and gone to the hospital.” After the doctor referred them to a hospital, Brooke talked to the wife about how important it was they go. The wife told her that on Sunday after his seizure, she knew he was really sick but they didn’t have money to go to the doctor. So they waited 4 days until they finally had enough money. We were the closest clinic so they came to us. The woman’s eyes were wide the whole time Brooke explained that her husband and the father of her children was severely sick. Their ride to the hospital came and out he was carried. After he left, we admitted a 13-month-old child into our malnutrition program that was so malnourished she could barely hold her head up.
Friday: “The baby died.” We had just triaged the first patient. “What? Which baby?” “The newborn we visited Wednesday.” Statistics were right again. When we went to visit our friend for the second time in two days, we found her sitting in her sister’s house. There were three other babies in the house, ranging from one month to four months old. It highlighted the injustice of her situation for me as she sat there holding another woman’s new infant. I don’t know why infant mortality is so high in the village. And I don’t know how to tell someone that Jesus loves her when she doesn’t believe in Him and she has just buried her child. “Two weeks ago I was at a restaurant watching a basketball game…” I thought to myself as we walked home exhausted from the week.
So, I still don’t know. I don’t know how to “fit in again” or answer questions well. I don’t know how to explain to people that you can see God very clearly some days and other days seem to scream, “There is no God!” I can’t explain how deeply blessed and how heavily burdened I am from living here. I ended my week by reading this…
“Yet what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later. For all creation is waiting eagerly for that future day when God will reveal who his children really are. Against its will, all creation was subjected to God’s curse. But with eager hope, the creation looks forward to the day when it will join God’s children in glorious freedom from death and decay. For we know that all creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. We believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering. And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.” -Romans 8

They aren't quiet ready to sit up, but that doesn't stop us!

Four new kids we've admitted into our malnutrition program.

called to love

"Sometimes working in a Third World Country makes me feel like I am emptying the ocean with an eyedropper.  And just when I have about a half a cup full of water it rains.  Love is the reason I just keep filling up my little eyedropper, keep filling it up and emptying my ocean one drop at a time.  I'm not here to eliminate poverty, to eradicate disease, to put a stop to people abandoning babies.  I'm just here to love."

~Katie Davis

I don't know why water has so much symbolism for me.  I think it's ironic that I live on an island and one of the best ways I can describe how I'm feeling is by the example of water.  Today it poured.  And when I say it poured, I don't mean that rain literally fell from the sky.  It felt like a tropical storm swept across my little piece of the world without any warning.  Today was one of those moments where I felt like it was all I could do to stay on my feet.  Moments where I wanted nothing more than to fall on my knees with prayers in desperation.  While playing in the village this afternoon, one of the older women stopped over and said a child was sick and that Katherine, Leslee, and I needed to go to the child's home.  None of us were prepared for what we would find when we entered the home of our friend.  We found our friend and her little boy sitting on the floor.  The little seven month old was sprawled out across his mothers lap.  His mother said he hadn't been eating or breastfeeding well and that he had been sick for two weeks.  At first I was confused and just taken off guard.  I had felt this little boy kick in his mother's womb throughout her pregnancy.  I had met this little boy just hours after he was born.  This little boy had always been chunky and well cared for.  No one had told Katherine, Leslee, or I that he had been sick before this moment.  I had passed by his home and talked with his mother just days before.  Nothing was said.  The chunky little boy that I'd known for seven months wasn't there.  Rather, here was this child that was incredibly severely malnourished.  This child barely had life in him.  His body was nothing but bones.  His mother said that her breast milk was no longer good, and that another person had told her to stop breastfeeding him. She said he no longer had an appetite.  This sweet baby boy just stared at us.  He stared at us with this haunting look in his eyes.  Just a few months ago, he had been able to sit and had started pulling himself around to begin crawling before he became sick.  Now he was lifeless in his mothers lap.  I don't know what happened.  We are in the village almost daily.  We sit and play with the older children just two homes over from this family's home.  We have greeted his family each and every afternoon and no one has said a thing.  It's moments like these ones when it literally pours.  We talked with his mother and told her that she had to bring him to the clinic.  We told her that we loved both her and her son, and that we wanted to help them through this.  We said that we would pray for them and we will.  I walked home so frustrated.  I was frustrated that this had happened right before my own eyes.  I'm still in shock, and honestly I am just overwhelmed by how sick this little boy was.  As I walked home I felt hopeless.  The whole situation felt hopeless.  I want to see poverty, malnutrition, and everything that is unjust eradicated.  I want to see the children healthy, and not just surviving, but rather thriving.  And yet, none of this is in my control.  I am not called to figure out all the pieces or to solve everything in Chambrun. I'm called to love.  So today I choose to love.  I choose to walk and intentionally seek His face.  

The top band is his arm circumference 88mm.
The bottom band shows the lowest arm circumference possible for
him to not be considered malnourished/at risk- 136mm.  

20 ounce coke bottle cap (left)- 98mm
This sweet little boy's arm measurement (right)- 88mm

march newsletter!

The March newsletter has finally been mailed!  Click on the link below for the web version of the newsletter.  Let me know (brookes_00@yahoo.com) if you would like to feel extra special and receive a copy in the mail!

 http://www.ministryupdates.org/smalley

And just in case you want to see more photos- click on the links below!  

(you do NOT need a fb account to see the pictures!)

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151772100740831.1073741825.529825830&type=1&l=d2a7345c72

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151398640175831.535019.529825830&type=1&l=9bd9939164

Ashley

It isn't an uncommon thing for a mother to ask me to take her child.  At first it really frustrated me.  Now it just breaks me.  Life here is hard and I've learned that there is so much more behind every request for me to take someones child.

I remember meeting Ashley and her mother in our clinic.  Katherine (another American nurse that I work with) and I sat down with this woman to admit her daughter into our malnutrition program.  The first thing Ashley's mother did was beg us to take her baby.  She came to our clinic because she wanted Katherine and I to take the baby.  Katherine and I sat and listened as we heard this woman's story.  She was 18 years old and wasn't actually the mother of the baby, but rather her cousin.  Ashley's mother died when she was just eight days old and her father wasn't involved.  This woman had been raising Ashley since her mother died.  Another family member had been allowing the two of them to live with her, but was threatening to kick them out because she no longer wanted a baby in her house.  We explained to Ashley's mom that our malnutrition program wasn't an inpatient program and that we couldn't actually take her baby.  We told her that we would love to walk beside and partner with her as she cared for Ashley.  We asked her to keep Ashley and to commit to coming to a malnutrition appointment every two weeks in our clinic.  We told her that we would pray for her to have the strength needed to provide and care for Ashley.  We told her that God had a plan for this sweet little baby and for her life too. Basically, we asked her to give us, and God, a chance.

And just like that our journey with Ashley and her new Momma began.  Every two weeks they came to the clinic for an appointment.  And every two weeks we watched as this new mother fell more and more in love with her sweet baby girl.  Her mother hasn't asked Katherine or I to take her since her first appointment in the clinic.  Instead, each week she updates us on how well Ashley is doing.  One week she showed us pictures she had taken of Ashley.  Another week she sat Ashley down on the floor and showed us how she had learned to crawl.  This week she showed us how Ashley had learned to dance and clap.  When we met Ashley she was 7 months old and weighed 9 pounds.  Today she is 10 months old and weighs 13.42 pounds.  None of this has been easy for her new mother and yet she has truly embraced her new role.  I love that I have been able to watch this little girl grow, that I've been able to hug and kiss her mother every two weeks in the clinic.  I feel so honored to know that there is a group of people praying for both Ashley and her mother.  That there are kids and adults that collected the infant formula and rice cereal that have been vital to helping Ashley grow and developmentally progress.  The saying "it takes a village to raise a child" couldn't be more true!

it's the most wonderful time of the year...

Mango season is truly one of the most wonderful times of the year!  For 5 goud ($0.11) I can buy three mangoes in the village.  The kids are all convinced at this good price we should buy mangoes each and every afternoon!  Mangoes are a fruit that all my little friends love and something that is super refreshing after a long hot day.  There is nothing more fun than crowding into a small shaded space while sharing a bag of mangoes with the kiddos.  There really is no clean way to eat a mango so by the time we are done with the afternoon snack everyone is beyond sticky and bath time is mandatory.  It's always entertaining to watch as everyone tries to get the mango "hairs" out of their teeth. The younger kids give up quickly which means I get the "lucky" job of picking the mango hairs out of their teeth--it's a good thing they are cute and I love them!  This year while eating her first mango of the season Daniella lost her first tooth!  It was pretty traumatic for a while but she has since recovered and is loving the gap in her teeth!  Mango season brings with it lots of sticky hugs and kisses which I wouldn't pass up for anything!

Eating a mango is a GREAT way to get rid of the
loose teeth in your mouth!  Daniella lost her first tooth!

oceans

"You call me out upon the waters

The great unknown where feet may fail

And there I find you in the mystery

In oceans deep

My faith will stand

And I will call upon Your name

And keep my eyes above the waves

When oceans rise

My soul will rest in Your embrace

For I am Yours and You are mine

Your grace abounds in deepest waters

Your sovereign hand

Will be my guide

Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me

You've never failed and You won't start now 

So I will call upon Your name

And keep my eyes above the waves

When oceans rise

My soul will rest in Your embrace

For I am Yours and You are mine

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders

Let me walk upon the waters

Wherever You would call me

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander

And my faith will be made stronger

in the presence of my Savior" 
~Oceans, Hillsong United~

I instantly fell in love with this song the first time I heard it.  Worship music is one of the ways where I feel the Lord truly speaks to me.  At first though, I couldn't get over the ending of the song "Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander."  If I was being truthful I'd tell you that's the last thing I really want, to be led into deeper waters.  There are so many days when I feel like the waves are literally crashing over me, and I can barely catch my breath, before another wave comes and pulls me under.  These are the moments in my life that I don't think I'll ever be able to forget.  Moments that have shaken me to the core.  

One specific moment was when I met a 19-month-old boy named Wonchel.  I remember how frail and lifeless he was.  How he looked at me and yet his eyes were vacant.  He had no energy and was barely able to stay awake during the appointment.  I remember watching as his mother removed layer after layer of clothing and I felt myself breaking piece by piece.  He weighed 12.67 pounds and was half way to being a 2 year old.  This little boy was hanging onto life by the tiniest thread.  Wonchel was quickly placed in our malnutrition program.  We sent him and his mother off with enough milk, fortified rice and beans, plumpy nut (peanut butter paste for severely malnourished children), and an appointment to return in two weeks.  None of this was "new" to me and yet this was one of those moments where, out of no where, it felt like a wave came and pulled me under.  For thirteen nights this little boy haunted me in my sleep.  I couldn't get the far off look that he had in his eyes out of my mind. 

After two weeks, his mother brought him to back to our clinic and it was instantly obvious that he had lost weight and wasn't doing well.  I watched as mom once again removed multiple layers of clothing.  I remember trying to hold back my tears as he was placed on the scale.  While mom was dressing Wonchel I talked with her.  I told her that I knew she hadn't given him the food we provided, and that I knew she wasn't telling me the truth.  She sat and fiddled with his little pair of red tennis shoes the entire time I talked with her.  Watching her fumble to put the shoes on his feet broke me, and caused me to kneel down in front of this momma.  I took the shoes from her hands and said "You will not need these because your son is going to die."  I took Wonchel from her lap and while dangling him in front of her simply asked if she loved her son?  If she wanted him to live? She wasn't able to make eye contact with me. She wasn't able to even answer the questions.  I took him and placed him right in front of her eyes and with tears in my eyes asked her to look at her son.  Look at how small his arms were, look at how he was barely able to hold his head, and look at how sick he was.  I told her that it wasn't up to me if this little boy was going to live, it was up to her.  I told her that I knew her life was more difficult than I could even imagine.  I told her that I loved her and that I knew God had a plan for not only her life, but for Wonchel's as well. I reminded her that He is a big God.  I remember watching as his mother walked out of our clinic and across campus.  I was drowning and I knew that there was absolutely nothing I could do for this little boy but pray.  And so I prayed both day and night.  I couldn't get the image of his shoes out of my mind.  These red shoes that were so new and yet would never be truly worn.

Two weeks later Wonchel and his mother returned to our clinic for another appointment.  I knew it was a miracle that this little boy was still alive.  His mother had a look of pride on her face when we weighed Wonchel and saw that he had gained 1.23 pounds.  I remember what it felt like to wrap my arms around this mother and to rejoice with her.  Week by week, this little boy gained weight, strength, and energy.  He went from a child that was barely able to hold his head up, to a child that was able to kick and scream in protest when he didn't want to get measured or weighed.  He went from a child that didn't have the energy to keep his eyes open, to a child that was able to sit, crawl, and stand on his own.  In five short months his body was restored right before our eyes.

Personally, I like to be in control. I don't want to be led "deeper than my feet could ever wander" because I know just how deep the waves can go.  I'm not ready to be pulled under again. And yet, I am so thankful that I serve a God that truly does lead me where I wouldn't normally go.  That even though there are, and will be, so many moments that I can't catch my breath, He is faithful. Ultimately through it all my faith will be made stronger.  Today, Wonchel graduated from our malnutrition program.  This little boy that stole my heart five months ago is now not only alive, but thriving.  

Click on the link below to listen to Oceans by Hillsong United! 

http://youtu.be/HSupcb4QpCY

snow days in haiti!

Nothing like a little "sledding" on a nice sunny day!  I love the moments I get to watch my kiddos simply be just kids.  I think the next challenge will be getting the kids to make a snowman out of dirt!  And I'm pretty sure their parents would look at me like I was absolutely crazy if I tried to teach them how to make "snow" angels!!  Feeling pretty blessed to have my "winter" days consist of lots of sunshine and 90 degree temperatures=)

favorites of 2013

Sweet Kris.  Love when she curls up on my lap just wanting to be
loved on.  She has a smile that is hard to say no to!

Last year I posted a "best of 2012" blog and thought I'd do it again this year!  Between my facebook and blog I post a lot of pictures.  It's pretty clear why some of the pictures are my favorite while others have some more hidden reasons.  I hope you enjoy getting an inside look at some of my favorite memories from 2013!

My sister Mila came to stay with me for two weeks!
LOVE that she has a heart for Haiti and that she loves my kiddos too!

Daniella and Kris know they have my heart!  Not sure how they
got so grown-up looking!  They are quite the mischievous pair! 

Our field-trip to the playground was SO much fun.  The
kids talked about it for weeks!  I can still hear their laughter and
chatter as they discussed the day.

Rosamene has been on my heart since I met her last year.  This year she
was brought back into my life- love how her little body has literally
been transformed through our malnutrition program!  

Just love everything about my little man.  He knows he is
mine and is so quick to run and claim his spot on my hip each and
every afternoon.  So thankful that God has blessed me with getting
to do life with Davidson and his family!

I have three reasons for LOVING this photo-
1-Mirlandia is looking super cute and grown up!  I am still in shock at just
how big she looks- it seems like yesterday that she was the tiny infant who
slept the days away in the laundry basin!
2- Kris and Natamara- such sweet little sisters!  These girls love each other but it isn't often
that I'm actually able to capture their love in a picture.
3-If you look closely at the boards, the kids have used charcoal to
practice writing letters and numbers.  The lack of writing paper doesn't stop these kiddos!

I am so blessed.  Love that this little face is never more than
a few inches away from me=)

Daniella and Kris are such good big sisters- they walk me to the road
each and every afternoon.  This day the siblings (Davidson and
Natamara) decided to join.  The girls were troopers and gave them
 piggy-back rides for part of the walk=)

Sweet Daniella has my heart.  She is so full of personality.  Love the rare
moments she actually sits still long enough to cuddle or to take a picture.  

Love that this is my life.  Chaotic, yes.  Me being
outnumbered, always.  But I wouldn't change it for anything!

Mango season was so fun (that is until we found a worm in
a mango..)!  Loved all the sticky hugs and kisses!  

When the moms weren't looking the kids took full
advantage of the empty bathing/laundry bins!  Singing
is SO much more fun in the laundry bins!

Rose and Kris during the first week of school!  These girls love
everything about school.  One of my favorite parts of the
day is getting to hear a detailed report (who ate what for lunch, who
 kicked someone, who has a new dress on etc etc.) of the school day from them!

Love Melissa's little smile!  Also love how ALL the children
(especially Davidson!) absolutely adore her and will literally chant
her name when she toddles over to sit with us=)

Summer was HOT so the kids and I decided that popsicles would help us survive
the heat!  The vendor loved it when he saw us coming!

These little ladies walk me to the road each and every night
when I leave the village.  Love the little talks we have while walking.

triplet update!

Triplets: Bedjine, Bedtchina, and Benardia- 23 months old.

In January Aubree and I met a family in our clinic that was instantly just extra special.  The parents came walking into our clinic with three little girls- all right at one year old.  At first we were confused and figured that the little girls were cousins to each other or perhaps they just lived in the same area.  And the parents looked too old to have children that young.  The parents just laughed as they told us their story. The little girls were theirs.  They were the parents of triplets.  The mother found out she was pregnant when she was 39 and already the mom to three other daughters.  During an ultrasound she discovered she was having twins.  It wasn't until she went into labor and delivered her "twins" up in the mountain inside their home that she realized she was actually pregnant for triplets!  These girls were literally little miracles!  The proud parents now had six daughters!

This photo was taken the first time we met the triplets in January 2013.
The girls were almost a year old.

The triplets were small for their age so they were admitted into our malnutrition program.  The girls came to our clinic every two weeks to be weighed, measured, and receive education about proper nutrition.   During each appointment the family was provided with rice/beans, milk, and Plumpy 'Nut (peanut butter paste for children diagnosed with malnutrition).  Over four months the girls quickly gained weight, learned to walk, started talking, and eventually met the requirements to graduate from the program.  Malnutrition appointments were much quieter once the girls graduated from the program=) 

Recently we were up in the mountain running a mobile medical clinic when we saw the father of the triplets.  He invited us to their home to see his wife and the girls.  When we arrived to their home we were greeted with lots of hugs.  This family had always treated Aubree and I as if we were extra special to them.  It wasn't uncommon for them to come to malnutrition appointments with a small gift of mangoes or avocados for us.  It was so fun seeing this family in their home instead of in our clinic.  The girls were thriving and looked really good.  The father was so proud as he gave us a tour of their garden and home.  He even showed us how he built his home by hand using various materials.  We loved getting to see how well the girls were doing and of course loved getting to see this sweet family again!  

becoming thankful

Lately I've had a really difficult time feeling thankful.  I know, that doesn't sound kind or grateful or even very "Christian-like."  But if I'm going to be honest- I'm just not feeling it.   It wasn't until I read one of my devotions for this week that I finally realized why I was struggling with joining in on the "thankful parade" that starts every November.

"A thankful mind-set does not entail a denial of reality with its plethora of problems.  Instead, it rejoices in God, my savior, in the midst of trials and tribulations.  

He is my refuge and strength, an ever-present and well-proved help in trouble." 

(Jesus Calling).  

This month I met a little boy, Yves Adler, who at the age of 20 months weighed just 17 pounds.  His body was completely swollen as the result of being severely malnourished.  This little boy barely had the energy to sit.  He was immediately placed in our malnutrition program and was provided with the needed nutrition (whole milk, fortified rice/beans, and Plumpy Nut, a fortified peanut butter for severely malnourished children).  For days I couldn't get rid of the sensation of what it felt like to hold his little lifeless body in my arms.  My fingers literally enclosed the spaces between each of his ribs.  His mother tried to fight for him.  She tried to be brave and she did everything we asked.  In the end, Yves Adler was too sick.  His body wasn't able to recover and he died in the hospital.  His mother called me to let me know about his death.  The only words that I could say to her was that I was praying for her. I told her I know she was a great mother and that I know she loved her son.

I guess in my mind, choosing to be thankful was simply covering up how I really felt.  In order to be thankful I would have to lie about how I'm honestly feeling.  I would have to make up a pretty story to cover up the truth.  And the truth has shaken me.  Honestly, I just want to be angry at the level of injustice that keeps hitting me in the face.  I want to scream.  And yet, during my quiet time God used my devotional to let me know that where I'm at is OK.  That being thankful isn't simply glossing over the reality of life, but rather it's more about looking for Him in the midst of it all.  Because He is there.  In each and every detail of Yves Adlers story, He is there.  I am thankful that God allowed Katherine and me to meet Yves Adler and his mother.  I am thankful that He allowed us to encourage her and help her fight with dignity for her son.  I am thankful that even though Yves Adler didn't live, his mother was given a chance to provide him some type of comfort in his last days. This Thanksgiving, I am thankful for my Savior who now holds a resting Yves Adler.

november newsletter!

The November newsletter has finally been mailed!  Click the link below for the web version of the newsletter.  Let me know (brookes_00@yahoo.com) if you would like to be added to the mailing list!

 http://www.ministryupdates.org/smalley

And just in case you want to see more photos- click on the links below!  

(you do NOT need a fb account to see the pictures!)

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151772100740831.1073741825.529825830&type=1&l=d2a7345c72

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151398640175831.535019.529825830&type=1&l=9bd9939164

one momma

Elimene (30yr old, 69#) and Bedshaina (3months old,  7.72#)

Each and everyday there are a line of people waiting outside the clinic to be seen by our Haitian physicians and clinic staff.  The patients range in age from just a few days old, all the way up to the really old looking patients who honestly have no clue what their ages are!  There are many people who simply pass through the clinic.  People I probably won't ever see again.  And then there are some who become so much more than just a "patient."

I remember the day I met Elimene.  Aubree and I had started triaging patients when I noticed her and her young daughter sitting by themselves outside.  Elimene was so small and fragile looking.  I called them inside and it was then that I literally felt myself breaking for this family.  It took all the strength Elimene had to walk into the clinic while carrying her three month old little girl.

At thirty years of age Elimene weighed sixty-nine pounds.  Yes, 69 pounds.  She lived at home with her husband, an eight year old daughter, and a three month old little girl, Bedshaina.  During Elimene's second pregnancy her husband threatened to leave her and their first child.  There wasn't enough money to make ends meet with just the three of them let alone with another baby on the way.  Towards the end of her pregnancy Elimene became very sick.  She became so sick that she was barely able to walk or carry her newborn daughter. And yet she continued to fight for her baby and chose to breastfeed her daughter.  While we are 100% advocates of breastfeeding we knew that breastfeeding was literally killing this momma.  This momma needed more nutrition in order to survive. We committed to walking alongside Elimene and Bedshaina until Bedshaina's first birthday.  We committed to providing them with rice packs, whole milk (for Elimene), and infant formula for Bedshaina every two weeks.  We still encouraged Elimene to breastfeed, to keep that bond with her sweet little girl.  But we also provided her with formula to help supplement what her body wasn't able to provide.

Elimene (70.48 pounds) and Bedshaina (5 months and 10 pounds!)

I used to break when I would see Elimene walking towards the clinic.  Emotionally I couldn't handle seeing her.  And yet, I was drawn to her.  Drawn to love her and drawn to hug her.  There was something special about this mom.  There was something different about her.  She never asked me for anything besides what the malnutrition program provided.  She didn't ask for money or clothing or any other random thing.  She loved her daughters and I knew that if she was willing to fight for her health and for her family- then we would be willing to partner with her on that journey.  Both Aubree and I prayed for this mom and her little girl.  We prayed for her entire family too.  

I don't remember what day or month it happened, but there was a day when Elimene walked into the clinic and for some reason I didn't just want to cry.  She looked good.  Really good.  Her body had been transformed.  I remember thinking thank you Jesus because that was the only answer and reason that any of this was actually possible.  It was a privilege to watch Elimene not only grow in weight, but in confidence and in respect for herself.  She went from a mom who would sit in the back corner by herself, to this mom who would sit right in the middle of all the other mommas and visit with them.  She laughs now too. It isn't an awkward laugh, but rather a laugh that comes from her heart.  Recently she told me that she saw some of her husband's family and they were shocked at how well she looked.  She said, "I simply looked at them and said God is faithful."  

I still get teary eyed when I think about this journey with Elimene and Bedshaina.  God has truly allowed Aubree, Katherine, and I to watch a miracle unfold before our eyes.  He has forever changed this family and in so many ways we too have been forever changed and impacted by them.  In October, Bedshaina celebrated her first birthday!  As we sang happy birthday to her and gave lots of hugs and kisses, my emotions were all over the place.  Mentally, I knew that once Bedshaina turned one she would graduate from the program.  I forgot to tell my heart all of this.  I might have even made Katherine keep them in the program an extra two weeks just so I could see them one more time!  I know that I'm going to miss seeing this family every two weeks, and that our malnutrition appointments won't be the same without them present.  I love that Elimene wasn't just a random patient that walked through our clinic but that she truly became a friend to me.

Elimene and her daughters

Bedshaina (103 pounds!!) and Elimene (15 pounds!)