When my plane left Haiti in November of 2006 and landed in Florida, the first thing I did was press the knob that gave me all the clean drinking water I would ever desire.  At home, I hugged my wife and wept as I told her about Haiti where children worked on one meal a day with little opportunity for an education, where there were broken wells, and houses made of sticks and mud.  Yet, I had made many dear Haitian friends even with the Creole/ English language barrier.

I had recently retired from teaching high school and it had always been our my wife’s and my desire to find more avenues to use God’s gifts, talents and skills.  When Mike Rutter from Bright Hope asked me to go to Haiti, I was excited about the opportunity.  I had many soul searching questions including whether Bright Hope and individuals could make a difference in what to me seemed a hopeless situation. 

One of the first things we did in the town of Pignon was to help deliver Hope Packs (small gift boxes) to the children.  As a former teacher, I was deeply moved because all I saw were children with pencils and spiral notebooks. In Haiti, there were no textbooks, and the only tool the teacher had was a worn out blackboard and a piece of chalk.   The children laughed with delight at receiving their Hope Packs, which contained school supplies, small toys, a tee shirt and even a Bible.  Later, a rotary club sent a shipment of Creole/English picture dictionaries that thrilled the teachers.

As I toured the village, I met a man who was doing carpentry work and I handed him a donated hand tool.   Delighted with the gift, he invited me into his tiny Haitian home to see some of his work and meet his family.   There is no welfare system in Haiti and the people are looking for opportunities to improve their lives. 

Our team stayed with Pastor Jephthe Lucien, Bright Hope’s Haiti partner.  Pastor Jephthe is well respected in his church and among the villagers.  He gave me the job of building school desks with the Haitian men.  We communicated through pantomiming and laughter. As a result, God knitted our hearts together.

Another time, returning from a walk in the village, I encountered a woman coming back from a spring with a wheelbarrow full of water containers.  I insisted on doing the job for her while she and her friends chattered and laughed to see an American man doing what in Haiti is women’s work. I’m inclined to agree with my wife who said, “Laughter like music is a universal language.”

On the last day I was there, Pastor Jephthe asked me if I would consider working with him to help build a trade school.  I now have a vision that by partnering with Bright Hope, I can make a difference in what I had at first thought was a hopeless situation. 

By: Larry Schuerr, Bright Hope Volunteer and Supporter

Below - Larry Pictured with some of the new friends he is seeking to help.

We at Bright Hope are excited to let you know that a group of Chicagoland families (pictured above) are hosting their annual Neighborhood Garage Sale, which has raised money for poor children in Africa since 2004. During this event, kids and families donate and sell their used toys, books games, puzzles and stuffed animals. This year’s event will take place on August 22nd and 23rd, 2008, from 9 am to 4 pm. at St. John’s Lutheran School, 300 Jefferson Street, Algonquin, Illinios. Come by and show your support for the kids and families who so generously give of their time, talent and treasure for the at risk children in Kenya.

Please see attached flier!

Toy Sale Flyer

Submitted by Annie Farrell,
Bright Hope Team Member

Last week, I took a vacation from the poor.

It’s hard for me to even write that sentence, but it’s the truth.  My husband and I had planned carefully for a full week off to travel to Michigan.  We put it on the staff calendar, socked some money away and packed our bags with excitement.  It had been several years since we had a “real” vacation, and we were looking forward to it. 

We had a beautiful time visiting family, sleeping late, eating out, walking along clean, beautiful beaches and doing a lot of nothing. 

While I did spend a little time on a few family laptops (mostly checking email and downloading photos), I found myself actively avoiding BBC World News and other places that would bring me face to face with what we see every day here at Bright Hope…

The starving children with their wide eyes and raggedy clothes, the refugee families living in cramped, unsanitary camps… the devastation of families living through the cyclone in Myanmar… the earthquake victims in China  …  It’s as if I couldn’t bear to look at them, just for a week…

And even though I knew this, of course, it struck me in a new way, that the poor — the people I get to serve in my job here at Bright Hope, never ever “get a vacation” from the poverty and desperation they live under.  They never have a reprieve from the daily struggle to come up with a few bites of food, or shelter from the rain, wind or sand.  Most of them will never in their lives stroll a clean, safe beach and stop for a cold drink or an ice cream cone.  

Most will never ever wake up in a clean, safe hotel room, take a long hot shower and then saunter downstairs for breakfast.  They’ll never wake up with absolutely nothing pressing on their mind for the day, and the freedom to go where they want, when they want, and how they want. 

I enjoyed my time off.  I do believe it allowed me to refresh my spirit, my soul and my marriage and I thank God and Bright Hope for providing it for me. 

But I came back to my desk here this Monday feeling an incredible sense of “privilege” that I get to be one of the people here who serves the poor, in my own small way.  Our team here starts our day with morning prayer, praying for our partners overseas  — the people in country who are face to face with the unrelenting daily needs of their families, communities and villages.  Then we ask God to show us how to serve them best -  how to raise support, how to develop programs and campaigns to engage people here in our own country, and how to create new and challenging opportunities for more people to partner with us in reaching people who desperately need our help.

I would not want to be any other place than where I am right here, as part of this team.  Before I got here, I knew about the poor. I had been to places like Russia and Cambodia, on short term trips, to “catch the vision” of serving the poor.  And now, I am trying to share that vision with everyone I meet. 

But I’ve changed since I got here.  I can’t forget the poor any more.  They have become part of my mind, my heart, my spirit, my soul.  And I thank God for that.  I wouldn’t want it any other way. 

Today I met with my fellow team members.  We made plans to get help to the people of Myanmar and a few other places in very desperate need.  It’s good to be back.

Andy is a unique boy and stands out among the rest of the boys in the Recreo program. We never see Andy smile among the rest of his peers who are always laughing and smiling. At first we thought he was a rebel and/or indifferent to everything around him, but as we have gotten to know him, we are slowly coming to realize the story behind this young boy’s angry face.

Even though it is hard for us to understand why he is so removed and indifferent, there is something about Andy that has caught our attention. Andy never misses a day of the program; he is always there on time and ready to get started. We also noticed that he strives to keep his personal life in order with his special way of writing in his notebooks.

At the end of the year, there is an award giving ceremony in order to motivate the kids. This year Andy was the winner of the “Best Attendance Award”. He won a soccer ball, which is one of the greatest gifts you can give to a boy who lives in a poor marginalized neighborhood. That day was the first time that we saw his smile, and found out what a beautiful smile he really has. His smile has impacted us and shown us the incredible transformation that is going on in Andy through the Recreo Program.

By Aaron Subich

I was talking with a friend last weekend about the genius of the placement of the kitchen window above the sink in her cabin. The view was superb, and the scenery before me — a pond, creek, field, sky, and wooded hill was captivating.

I realized later that night, the kitchen sink in my own house had a window above it, with a very picturesque scene as well. Only, I had long been bored with the view and no longer paid attention to it. There is simply no expectation that I will see anything worth seeing. I confess that its like that in many areas of my life - I don’t have many expectations of things being new, or worthwhile, or impactful. 

There is this barrier up not unlike the kitchen window.

This picture however, slammed right through that barrier like a well struck golf ball.

You don’t want to look at it, but it compels you to look. It might even, like it did me, bring some tears to your eyes. Maybe you feel guilt. I felt anger. Just God – Really?! How? And kind of amazingly, the answer came…

Me? I’m an answer?!?

“What, what in the world do a little, starving African child hours from death, and me, a successful American in his 20’s with the world available to him have in common?” I asked.

The answer to that… we both have a common creator and a just God. It is kinda scary to think about. I have so much. She has nothing. I have a future, security, food, friends, family, wealth, comfort, health, even entertainment. She has sores and dysentery, is starving, could have AIDS or has lost family members to AIDS, and clearly is alone (unless you welcome the company of vultures), and unless a series of dramatic events occur rapidly to her betterment, she won’t see tomorrow.

Why is that scary to me?… precisely because God is a God of justice. God, being just, clearly knows the innocence of that poor soul, and He surely knows the wealth I enjoy every day. Just imagine that if my emotions rise up and I became furious at this injustice; this atrocity, pictured above, that is so graphic in its reality we can barely abide it… Just imagine the indignation God himself must have for those that go on living as though they hadn’t seen this picture.

In any event, I watched my little brother apologize profusely for the wayward golf ball he once knocked through my parent’s kitchen window. You know,… the one right over the sink.

I can only hope this one breaks through yours in the same way.