We ended up at the hospital on Saturday afternoon, waiting for a contractor. It was hot and humid and they were late. Natasha and I stood outside of the cafeteria underneath the shade of one of the beautiful trees on the HCBH campus.
An older woman approached us looking quite distraught. She spoke to us, but it was very difficult to understand her through her tears. Her only son had died that day, struggling for a few days after an accident on the dangerous roads we have in Haiti. She cried as she returned with some receipts from the hospital. Another woman approached us and explained. The grief-stricken woman had used all the money she had on her son’s treatment. She was returning home with nothing. Not even enough to pay for transportation. Read more »