I am white.
Try not to be shocked.
I dance like a whitey. I sing in the shower like a whitey. I speak Creole like a whitey. We use the general term “whitey” to mean any foreigner (usually from America) that is coming to visit. This past month the new whitey’s were my little sister Sammie as well as my parents. They came, they saw, they went home broken. Haiti will do that to a person. A lot of places will do that to a person. We have a sign above our board that simply reads “You are one of us now, because you can’t forget His beauty.”
That is my prayer for my family as well as every other person that comes down to visit. Yes remember our kids, remember the heartbreak and the torment your soul went though. Remember the tragedy and the tears. But above all else, remember the beauty. Because it is undeniable. It is sewn into the very fabric of life this place holds. It is etched onto every winkle on the face, soaked into every sweat dripped brow. Written on the heart and face of every child. Remarkable, unbelievable beauty.
Remember His beauty.