How can I bear it? To give her a ride – this lady who raised her family and controls them still with just a look and a disgruntled, “Oh.” She will never learn to drive a car. How can I give her a ride again – and hear “God bless you Sister Eliezer. May He give you a boy for your first child.” She acts like I solved her problems for the day. But she has many I cannot solve. How can I bear it? How can I bear it? This madanm the hushed conversation on the porch – My husband list

You can get used to living far away from the country where you were born. Strange things become normal. But today, Thanksgiving Day, I will think of all of you and be a bit lonesome. Thanksgiving is not celebrated in Haiti, but my husband says I need to at least make the food, because traditions are important. He even offered to try to throw a party with his family, but I declined. Times aren’t that great for anyone, and they shouldn’t be burdened with extra parties. We were

I've had people texting me in the last few days, wondering if anything in Haiti has changed, and how we are. I feel like have nothing to write, really. Nothing has really changed. It reminds me a lot of the first few months of lockdown in 2020. All the ladies are kind of inside trying to keep on with business as usual, and the men are on the news constantly. It's the only thing they'll talk about, and I'm glad the news is in Kreyol so I can just try to tune it out. It became

Discouragement can look like a lot of things. It is a sink full of dirty dishes while I take the third nap of the day. It is a sunflower, wilted like my spirit, losing petals and leaves because I do not have the energy to throw it out the door and wash the vase. Much less to water the still living plants outside. It is hunger turned to lethargy… because… spaghetti again. It is finally joining my husband in the car as he listens to more bad news almost in a stupor for hours at