This journey was and is overwhelming, and I’m thankful for the people who help me become who I am today. This is the story of how I found out what I was passionate about.
In 2011, I decided to give my 12th birthday up. I had everything thing a 12 year old could ask for, silly bands up to my elbows, I really saw no point in getting presents I would never use. So I decided instead of asking for gifts, I asked for everyone to donate $12.00 to an organization called Charity Water. I thought it would be a great opportunity to raise money for people who didn’t have clean water. The day I turned 12, I raised 2,304 dollars, and now, 115 people have fresh water. The joy I felt knowing that these 115 people would go to bed hydrated with fresh water instead of disease infested pond water was overwhelming. My church and the loving people around me desired the same; to help these people just as Jesus helped us.
Fast forward a year to 7th grade, when I led a 3-5th grade small group. We decided we wanted to help a child out that Christmas. I stumbled upon a facebook post about an orphanage in need of gifts for the children that Christmas. We picked out a young girl name Chinalove from the orphanage in Haiti, called Cap Haitian Children’s Home (CHCH). At the time, my older friend Ally was currently living there at the orphanage for 3 months. The girls all bought something that we sent off to Haiti for Chinalove, and it felt so good knowing that she would have a present this Christmas. Ally shared her experience with me when she got back a couple weeks before Christmas. I was fascinated; hearing all here great stories and life changing memories, made me want to go. Christmas eases its way in, and my parents asked what I wanted for Christmas. There were baffled by answer to go to Haiti. Christmas day rolls around, and I expect to find a passport in my stocking, I don’t. Disappointed, I go to my grandma’s for lunch like we do every Christmas year. All my cousins and aunts and uncles are opening gifts, as well as me, and still no passport. Finally, it was my turn to open my gift from the whole family, it was a c.d. and a little wrapped gift. Confused, I slide it in the DVD player. There on the screen, are these beautiful Haitian children, and I knew at that moment, I was getting to go to Haiti. Tears streaking down my face, I open up the gift that came along with the c.d. Inside were two passports, one for me, and one for my aunt Kim (Kiki). We packed our bags and went a couple months after, February 2012.
When the plane landed, so did my heart. We rode in the back of a truck from the airport to the orphanage. I looked in awe; trash piled on the road, kids bathing outside in buckets, people begging us for money, it broke my heart. I was welcomed into the orphanage with weird glances, and mumbles from the older ones about a “ti fi blan” (petite white girl). The younger ones, ran up to me with hugs, and held my hand, leading me to my new room for the next 4 days. Those next days were the greatest days of my life; I painted nails, colored, danced until my feet hurt, and attempted to learn some Creole. I learned so much from the experience, learning to be thankful for what I have. Just like living in the orphanage was the greatest, leaving was one of the hardest things I had to do too. I cried and cried on the flight home until I was sure my tear ducts were dried up like raisins. All I could think about for the rest of the school year, I wanted to go back so badly. Finally, my parents said, “Avery, if you really want to back to Haiti that badly, you need to raise the money yourself.” So I did.
August of 2012 comes along and I decide to have a garage sale. I put all my old clothes, books I’ve already read, old jewelry, anything I could get my hands on. I wake up bright and early that hot August morning, set up my table right outside my garage, and waited. By the end of the whole thing, I had raised over 1,000 dollars. Stoked, I put all my money into the bank, titling it “Haiti Money.” Then I waited for an opportunity to rise, and multiple did, but they were all canceled, or I wasn’t able to go. Finally, a chance to go to Haiti came up, Spring Break of 2013. This one I thought for sure I was going. The dates were set, as well as the people who were going. We emailed the people at the orphanage making sure everything was set and ready to go. The reply we got back stopped us all in our tracks; “The owners of the orphanage are putting a hold on us letting anyone visit the orphanage.” They wouldn’t let us visit, because we had different denominations. I didn’t know what to do, at that time, I just gave up. All throughout the rest of that summer, I was terribly sad. I didn’t know what to do anymore. My aunt with a group that July, but they weren’t able to see the kids at CHCH. I couldn’t go, because I was camp. I was depressed. She went again, later in November and I wanted to go desperately. But sadly, the car seated 7, and I would make the 8th member, meaning I couldn’t go. But, she went with her daughter Carly, and her heart broke just the same as ours. I eventually decided I would write a letter to the church in Ada who owned the orphanage. Lots of others who loved the orphanage just as much as me wrote letters too. I gave them the gist of my story of how I came to know CHCH, and asked them to please enlighten me why I wasn’t able to visit the orphanage. The reply wasn’t what I wanted, but I expected it coming. I was not going to be able to visit CHCH again, as long as they were in charge of it. I coped with the response, and bottled up all my anger and sadness inside a bottle deep in my heart.
Now, being able to be apart with the creation of the Amata Village has helped me tremendously. Created by Ally and Carly, the Amata Village will hopefully become a place for children to stay in Haiti as a safe place in the near future. Helping with this has really brightened my horizons realizing I don’t need to be in Haiti to help. I don’t agree with what the owners of the orphanage say, not being able to visit the orphanage because of my denominations, but just because I can’t help those kids, doesn’t mean I can’t help with the 1,000’s of others in Haiti. Denominations are just organized brokenness. We are all of Jesus disciples and are called to serve for the same reason. This is our purpose here on Earth, and we are called to be his hands and feet in this broken world.
The Life of Ave 