Everyone in Haiti lost someone...

Below is a blog post by Rachel Prusynski, who in 2010, was visiting her friend Molly Hightower who was volunteering at the NPH Haiti home when the devastating earthquake hit. 

I was only supposed to visit my college friend Molly Hightower who was volunteering at NPH Haiti. On the 10th day of the trip, an earthquake of 7.0 Mw rocked the Caribbean country. It changed my life forever. 

My first trip to NPH Haiti: As well as visiting Molly Hightower, who was mid-way through her volunteer year at NPH Haiti, I was considering volunteering for NPH after finishing my doctorate in physical therapy and wanted to see what the volunteer experience was like. Molly and I became close friends while studying at the University of Portland in Oregon. After spending a lovely time in Haiti with Molly and her fellow volunteers through helping her at work at St. Damien’s hospital as well as spending some time traveling around Haiti, the earthquake struck. 

The moment it struck 

I was on the top floor of the Father Wasson Centre, a 6-story building in Petionvile where the volunteers lived and where NPH had offices, day programs for kids with disabilities from the community, and an event space. I was sitting in the lounge area next to Ryan Kloos, who was visiting his sister Erin, another volunteer. Erin and Molly were both downstairs in their rooms showering after our trip to the market. One minute, Ryan and I were checking e-mails, and the next I remember, I was on my feet scrambling as the floor tipped sideways. There was no time to react, and I was buried as the entire building crashed down, our top floor pancaking on top of the floors below. Unfortunately, both Ryan and Molly were killed. 

I was pulled from the Father Wasson Centre by strangers who I believe were involved with NPH who drove me to the US embassy that night. I was evacuated to Guantanamo Bay Navy Hospital due to my injuries, and was back in the US within a few days after negotiating a flight to Florida. I was injured and unable to help immediately in the aftermath, and as a visitor unfamiliar to Haiti I likely wouldn’t have been very helpful, but I ached to help and felt disconnected from everyone struggling in Haiti, especially considering my only connection to Haiti had died with Molly. 

Because of the strength and destruction of the earthquake, everyone in Haiti lost someone. 

Supporting NPH in the Aftermath 

I returned to Haiti for the one-year anniversary of the earthquake and was graciously hosted by Molly’s former boss and colleagues and have returned for multiple trips since, both training physical therapy technicians and nursing students at the St. Luke schools and hospital associated with NPH as well as the Kay Germaine program for youth and adults with disabilities. 

I also had the opportunity to establish a university scholarship in Molly’s honor at our alma mater. Two young adults who grew up at NPH Haiti have now successfully completed their bachelor’s degrees at the University of Portland on a full-ride scholarship. 

I have seen our NPH programs in Haiti go through many changes in recent years, with the initial Father Wasson Angels of Light program borne in acute response to the quake shifting to a more permanent program. I have continuously been impressed by the quality of care at St. Damien hospital, with the addition of the pediatric residency program and expanded oncology service lines, among other achievements. The Kay Germaine programs have expanded to serve adults with neurologic impairment, a huge gap in rehabilitative care present even before the earthquake. I also sponsored a young child who was left at the NPH home after the earthquake and he is now turning 18; we have communicated for almost 10 years and I am extremely proud of his compassionate nature and drive. 

10 Years Later 

Staying connected to NPH was essential for my personal recovery after the earthquake. Having an outlet for some of my survivor’s guilt and my desire to help as well as a connection to the NPH community makes me feel like part of a family and continues to give me purpose. I founded the first Associate Board of young professionals for NPH USA in the Northwest. Through the years, the Associate Board has been responsible for raising thousands of dollars and energizing young donors through many community events and child sponsorships. I now serve on the NPH USA Northwest regional board and continue to support NPH Haiti. In terms of the two university scholarships, I got to be a part of the students’ support team as they went through college here in the U.S. and am lucky to consider both of them as family. I know that when I look back on my life in years to come, my role in their journey and their place in my family will be one of the biggest points of pride and love in my life. 

I was hoping to be in Haiti with the NPH community for the 10th anniversary of the earthquake but cannot, in good conscience, be a burden to them at this time. NPH Haiti is struggling against the daily challenges of keeping the home and hospital running amidst gas and transportation shortages during the current political crisis. The NPH Haiti staff are competent and courageous people and I will continue to send them as much financial support as I can manage, especially during the worst crisis Haiti has faced since the earthquake. Considering they have faced the cholera outbreak and multiple hurricanes since 2010, the fact that this current systemic unrest has even more negative impacts on our operations and poses more uncertainty for the future is a testament to the massive challenges our staff face daily in order to provide care for the vulnerable families we support.

Amidst the chaos, fractured housing and penetrating unknowns, St. Damien Children’s Hospital is an oasis...

Angelo Rose is an attorney and musician from Rochester, NY. Following the 2010 earthquake in Haiti, he wrote a song to raise funds for St. Damien Hospital there. He released a second song last year in response to Hurricane Matthew: www.haitisrain.org. He recently visited St. Damien in January 2017, and below is his reflection. Click here to make a gift and support the life-saving work of St. Damien Hospital today!

 

 

Le gen lanmou, gen doule'

 

Somewhat ironically, I will start this brief reflection where physically my journey to Haiti ended…

 

Dazed and tired, I shuffled into my Ft. Lauderdale hotel and took my first shower in days. There, under the warm embrace of pulsing jets, I was overcome: The thundering guilt of having a home, a bed, clean water to bathe in and my God, the seemingly infinite power to turn the faucet to quench my thirst were collectively just too much to own. Haiti suffers at the most base levels of existence and until I experienced it first hand, its devastation remained an abstract truth. Now, there is not a day I don’t recall a face, or silently chant, “Thank you” when I drink a glass of water or sit down for dinner. It is the difference between watching a video clip of someone on a roller coaster and actually sitting in the first car of an old, wooden Skyliner as it claps along tired rails. I knew, however, that ride was going to end for me, that I would fly out and leave behind the countless children I met, the selfless people giving so much to change the norm there. They remain, twisting and turning in markedly inadequate shelter and structure, exposed to the raging elements of nature and consequence of desperation. Children and adults alike are in critical need of nutrition, education and water. The country as a whole flounders in political corruption, unknowns and hypocrisies. The weight of it all was too much and I collapsed to the perfectly tiled shower floor. Sobbing and shaking, I tried to make sense of it all…

 

Le gen lanmou, gen doule’

 

When our small group landed in Port au Prince, it was readily apparent that Haiti was strung together by the thinnest of threads. Amidst the chaos, fractured housing and penetrating unknowns, St. Damien Children’s Hospital is an oasis. The doctors, nurses, employees, volunteers and Fathers Rick Frechette and Enzo Del Brocco, tirelessly devote each day to saving lives. The hospital is a clean, incredibly well run sanctuary for an endless sea of children in dire need of medical care. Father Rick and Phadool, the Human Resources Director at St. Damien, provided a vast amount of information during daily visits to the hospital.  Clean, potable water is infinitely sparse. Quality medicines are desperately needed at St. Damien, as are funds to acquire vital medical equipment.  

 

I was awed by doctors and nurses who repeatedly, selflessly and unconditionally gave all they had. Each morning, mothers line up outside the gates to seek ambulatory medical care for their babies. As this group patiently waits to be seen, the more serious cases are evaluated and treated on the other side of St. Damien. Mothers of children who are required to have lengthy stays are relegated to sleeping in upright metal chairs or on a concrete floor underneath their cribs. Jacqueline Gautier, National Director of St. Damien, confirmed that hospital grade reclining chairs are among the vital equipment needed. The children I met radiated with love, for in the arms of St. Damien they were fed, given medicine and genuine opportunity to heal. Though I am now several weeks removed from my trip, the penetrating eyes of hope travel thousands of miles daily to visit me. A musician often moonlighting as a trial attorney, admittedly I had limited medical skills to offer. This glaring deficiency seemed to matter very little at St. Damien. What the children sought from me, I could aptly provide. Often it was simply a smile, or a hug, or a fingertip-to-fingertip touch that calmed and soothed. The doctors superbly managed the medical needs and I was at-home simply being there for anything else. My ego was consumed. Gone were daily worries about email and developing trends in recent case law. The next life-or-death argument concerning which divorcee would get the engraved soap dish took its proper place in oblivion.  

 

Le gen lanmou, gen doule'  

 

Adjacent to the hospital is the beautiful and rustic Chapel of St. Philomena, where a daily morning mass is assembled. I discovered that most of these early masses are tragically, in fact, vigils for children who died in the preceding days. The first such mass I attended was before the bodies of seven children, wrapped in light-blue paper and gently placed in reusable cardboard coffins. Of the four caskets laid before us, three contained not one, but two tiny bodies. I was overcome. Life and death in Haiti are perpetually at odds and sometimes there is simply nothing that can be done. That reality, amidst some of the finest medical professionals the world has to offer, was immeasurably painful. And yet, as mass concluded, the small congregation (often comprised of the aforementioned doctors, nurses, employees, volunteers and Phadool) breathed life into an old Creole Hymn and ferried the coffins from the Chapel to an awaiting flatbed. The bodies were then transported to a spot beyond the hospital for cremation. No family members were there to say goodbye, but there was little doubt about the reverberating weight of each loss. These daily masses are a divine opportunity to reflect upon the immense need in Haiti, the tragedy of such profound poverty and the senseless deaths of innocent children. I saw no greater demonstration of love than during the masses, where the forgotten are remembered and hearts are torn open in the remembrance of the gift and fragility of life.  

 

Le gen lanmou, gen doule’    

 

When there is love, there is pain.  

 

 

It is important to make sure the kids value their godparents and everything that they do for them even though they cannot see them.

Mariney Ocampo is currently the Head of the International Sponsorship Department at NPH Mexico. Born in the United States to Mexican parents, Mariney lived in California until she was one year old. Her family on her father’s side of the family lives in the United States while her family on her mother´s side of the family lives in Cuernavaca, Mexico. In Mexico, at the age of four she was enrolled in a bilingual school where she began to learn English, and at the age of nine she began to study French at a local language center. Since she was young, her dream has always been to be an interpreter, and her biggest goal - to interpret for the United Nations.

Mariney studied International Relations at the International University in Cuernavaca. During this time, she also studied German, Italian, and Russian. She received a scholarship to participate in an exchange program through Virginia Tech where she studied International Development before returning to Cuernavaca where she graduated in 2004. In 2005, she began to work for a German NGO, CBM, in Cuernavaca whose mission is to support local projects for the benefit of disabled people in poor countries. Mariney worked as the coordinator of the projects in the Caribbean for three and a half years. After her experience with this company, she moved to England where she received her Master’s degree in Conflict Resolution, a branch of International Relations, at the University of Bradford. During this time she was also able to study Arab with a friend from Syria who was also living in England.

Following her graduation from Bradford in 2010, Mariney returned to work with CBM to aid in their relief efforts after the earthquake in Haiti that year. The organization opened an office in Haiti, and she worked in displacement camps there for six months. Because there was no infrastructure, the people had gone to live in plazas and parks, and it was in those displacement camps, or “tent cities,” where she helped coordinate the construction of infant shelters. Since there were no schools, hospitals, or homes remaining, health, educational, and rehabilitation services were offered in the tent cities. Mariney’s job was to hire people to install structures for the thousands of orphaned children, where they could receive meals, shelter, and therapy. At the end of 2010, after the heavy experience in Haiti, she returned to Cuernavaca because of her desire to be with her family.

She began her job search, only knowing that, “I wanted to work for a non-profit because I had always worked in this sector. I was never involved in the governmental or private sector because I have always liked philanthropy.” She found an opening at NPH, not realizing that Nos Petit Frères et Soeurs (the organization that built Saint Damien’s Hospital in Haiti, which had survived the earthquake and where she had gone to attend meetings while working in Haiti) was not a French or Haitian organization but had originated in her home country of Mexico, and in Spanish was called Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos™, or NPH. Having come to this realization, Mariney was very interested in the position, came in for an interview and had a tour of the home in Miacatlán. She fell in love with the home and the social objectives only to begin working as the Volunteer and Visitor Coordinator in March of 2011.

Mariney held that position until December of 2011 when she began to work in the sponsorship office because she was asked to support in the transition of the retirement of the previous Director of Sponsorship of 28 years, Mayi. Mariney worked as the assistant to the director for six months, and in June of 2012 Mayi invited Mariney to be the Head of the International Sponsorship Department. Day to day, she dedicates herself to obtaining new international sponsors, or godparents, for the children of NPH Mexico. Every day there are new requests for sponsorship, and it is her responsibility, along with her team of three, to facilitate communication between the children and their godparents. Every day they receive letters and packages from International Sponsors, and together they work with the children to write letters, thank you responses, translate them, and send the responses. Another part of Mariney’s job, and one that she enjoys a lot, is being responsible for the organizing of the spending of the “Sharing Fund.” This is a fund made up of monetary gifts received by international sponsors and used to fund activities and celebrations in the home. Mariney has the responsibility of giving out birthday money at the end of each month, Christmas money during the holidays, allocating money towards activities like BBQs, First Communions, summer activities such as ceramics, taekwondo and theatre.

Mariney says one of the biggest challenges of her work, but one that she fully enjoys, is that “this office is a bridge between the godparents who are far away and the children who are here. We have to make an effort to build those relationships from a distance, and to create a consciousness in the kids because to them the sponsors are so far away that they are almost invisible. It is important to make sure the kids value their godparents and everything that they do for them even though they cannot see them. We are also going to begin the Godparents Party so that the children realize that all the good things that they have here, and it this is an important part of that. It is a way to show thanks to their godparents.”

What she likes most about her job is knowing that her work helps so many children and having the opportunity to get closer to the kids, "I enjoy knowing that the money from the godparents is spent on fun for the kids and knowing that my work has an impact, and helping to ensure that this can continue to benefit the children. I think about that every day. If it is a boring, or sad, or a busy day, I always remember that I am working for all the children that are here, and that is what I like."

Mariney is about to complete one year in her position as Head of the International Sponsorship Department and we would like to congratulate her on this mark in her career at NPH and thank her for all her hard work and dedication that she has given to us.

Reported by Elizabeth Caletka, Communications Officer

The transformation that the Friends and NPH family has allowed Kervenson to undertake is amazing, astounding, and fulfills every hope and dream I have for him...

Below is a testimonial from Rachel Prusynski, great Friend and Godparent, who shares her personal and touching story about her own experience in the Haiti earthquake and meeting her godchild, Kervenson. 

On January 12, 2010, I was trapped under the rubble of the six-story Father Wasson Center in Pètionville, Haiti. I was rescued from the building with just a broken arm and multiple lacerations. My friend Molly Hightower, who was volunteering for a year with special needs children for NPH Haiti, was not so lucky. Needless to say, my two-week vacation to visit my best friend from college and meet the children she loved ended quite tragically and unexpectedly, and I have spent the last three years since the earthquake trying to honor Molly’s memory through fundraising efforts and return trips to Haiti. I have also fallen in love – deeply and desperately – with the country that lost so much on January 12, 2010. I’ve also fallen for an adorable orphan named Kervenson.

Kervenson lost his family on January 12, 2010 at the age of ten. He literally had no one, and was being abused in a tent city when NPH workers found him and brought him to the Angels of Light earthquake relief program. Once it was fully determined that Kervenson had no family left, he was transitioned to the permanent orphanage in Kenscoff, Haiti, where he lives in a gray house with pink trim, a dozen or so boys his same age, and a caregiver who is quick to smile and assure me that Kervenson is a well-behaved young man.

Kervenson and I first met in January 2011, when I returned to Haiti for the one-year anniversary of the earthquake to participate in celebrations and memorials. After the earthquake, through my own process of grief and recovery, I decided I wanted to sponsor a child who had somehow been traumatically affected by the earthquake. Kervenson certainly fit that description, and I detected remnants of his suffering in the shy, gangly child who was far too small to be ten years old. Despite spending multiple days together walking through the grounds and sharing the joys of a cold soda, Kervenson rarely spoke unless it was in hushed whispers, except to ask me when I would return.

I write this story during my fourth trip to Haiti after having visited Kervenson for a third time. The confident, tall, and polite twelve- year-old I just spent time with is almost unrecognizable from the sad child I met two years ago. Kervenson is learning English and jumped at the chance to practice greeting me in my language. He told me about his trip this last fall to Italy, where he visited Rome, met Andrea Bocelli, and walked onto the soccer field at FC Milan. He said thank you about fifteen times while opening his Christmas present and asked me to send him pictures and a book in English so he can continue to practice. This time, I couldn’t get him to stop talking. He showed me a watch from his godmother in Italy that he met during his trip, although he diplomatically assured me that I’m still his favorite godparent. And of course, he immediately asked me when I would return.

I can’t tell you that my sponsorship experience is selfless. My physical recovery from the earthquake was swift, but the emotional trauma of being trapped in rubble and losing my best friend was more difficult to shake. Having Kervenson in my life means that I have a family member who knows exactly what the earthquake felt like. It also means that Kervenson has someone all to himself – whom he doesn’t have to share with his 400 brothers and sisters in Kenscoff – that also understands the event that changed his life forever. I hope and dream for Kervenson that his experience in the earthquake is easier for him to shake. I want him to grow up knowing that he can be whoever he wants to be, and I want him to have the necessary support and encouragement to fulfill his potential. Especially after this last visit, the transformation that the Friends and NPH family has allowed Kervenson to undertake is amazing, astounding, and fulfills every hope and dream I have for him. I am blessed to be a small part in this transformation and I cannot wait to continue to support and love him as he realizes his own hopes and dreams.

An eternal source of hope and inspiration...

Here is Rachel Prusynski's "Godmother Blog" about her godchild and her time in Haiti.


I lost a variety of possessions buried in the rubble of a fallen building, along with my ability to tolerate heights and my best friend in Haiti’s 2010 earthquake. But I gained a passion for an achingly beautiful and painful country and its people, a few Creole phrases, and a new family member in the earthquake’s aftermath. My godson, Kervenson, lost his family in the earthquake when he was 10 years old and was abused in a tent camp before being welcomed to the NPH family.


Kervenson and I first met when I returned to Haiti on the one-year anniversary of the earthquake. I arrived to the orphanage shortly after choosing to be his godmother and before my first letter had reached his home, so my appearance on the peaceful St. Helene campus caused quite the ruckus as 400 children went to hunt down Kervenson and produce him to me. A wide-eyed little boy with tiny legs and knobby knees in a ski cap and oversized sweatshirt shuffled up to me with a shocked expression. He listened as I struggled through my Creole explanation of who I was and why I was showing up at his home to offer him a bag of gifts and company for a few days of walks in the mountains, treats like sodas purchased nearby, and hopeful conversations with whispered hopes from my shy godson and joyful encouragements from his besotted godmother.


I returned again to Haiti a year later and was overjoyed to see how much difference a year of education, the NPH family, and proper nourishment can make! Kervenson had grown inches and was full of the spunk and confidence I would expect from a 12-year-old who is the first in his class at school. No longer as wide eyed, Kervenson laughed instead of whispered and chatted with me as much as my Creole skills would allow. He plucked my heartstrings with the tears he tried to hide both times I arrived, sniffling and smiling and wiping his eyes on his sweatshirt sleeve. Every few hours, he asked, “when are you coming back to Haiti?”


Between my trips, Kervenson and I have gotten to know each other through letters that never cease to lift my spirits as he tells me of summer vacation, his grades in school, and his goals for the future. He posted the pictures I sent him up in his cubby at school and made sure to show me during my latest trip.


Kervenson endured much more than I can comprehend and much more than a young boy should, but like so many of the children in all the NPH homes, he provides an eternal source of hope and inspiration. I can’t truly capture how amazing it feels to be a small part of what he was able to gain after losing so much.

Choose love rather than hate...

Father Rick Frechette shares some of the great accomplishments of the work of Friends and NPH in Haiti, now 2 years after the devastating earthquake.


"Choose love rather than hate,
a smile rather than a frown,


Choose to build rather than to destroy,
to persevere rather than to quit,


Choose to praise rather than to tear down,
to heal rather than to wound,


Choose to give more than to take,
to respond rather than to delay,


Choose to bless rather than to curse,
to pray rather than to despair."


[unknown]


Dear Friends,


This time last year, I wrote about our beloved chapel, St. Philomena, which had stood through the destruction and shock of 2010. She was cracked and weakened, and held up by struts, inside and out, which looked like crutches. A church on crutches—a fitting image in a country where so many people were left limping, or limbless, or worse.


“Choose to build rather than to destroy”


During 2011, the chapel enjoyed an artistic renovation, and a beautiful painting of resurrection now covers the once broken stones of the back wall. The front wall was repaired and secured with additional support. Throughout 2011, we find ourselves to be guided by the spirit of Resurrection, as we rebuilt so much of what had fallen, and even more beyond that. Building up healthcare, education and outreach services, building up programs and people, such that of all our leaders are Haitian, many of them hailing from our original home and school, St. Helene. The post earthquake programs of 2010 have flourished and continued to grow to serve the marginalized and unfortunate, and give dignity to thousands.


“Choose to heal rather than to wound”


As we reflect on the second anniversary of the earthquake, which is also our 25th year in Haiti, we can see very clearly the fruit of our labor in all we have accomplished.


-The Fr. Wasson Angels of Light program for vulnerable and displaced children permanently cares for 180 children daily, while an additional 700 children from the community attend the onsite primary school.


-St. Helene in Kenscoff opened their doors to over 60 new children.


-A housing complex was built for our high school and university students.


-The new maternity program cared for and delivered 4,799 babies.


-Neonatalogy gave life to 640 premature and endangered babies.


-Our cancer center has served 140 children providing them a second chance in a country where cancer is s death sentence.


-Public health services reach 20,000 people still living in the deplorable condition of the tent cities.


-The Rehabilitation programs of St. Germaine and Kay Elaine assisted 1,500 adults and children.


-More than 1,600 jobs are provided with each person supporting a family of four.


“Choose to give more than to take”


We gave:


-3,000 bags of rice weighing 25 kilograms each


-852,000 loaves of bread


-199,000 packages of pasta


-1,728 trucks of water


-thousands of burials, too many to count.


-thousands of cement blocks to make homes and cobblestone to build roads.


"Choose to love rather than to hate”


On this 25th anniversary of our programs in Haiti, it is important to remember our mission. Fr. Wasson built NPH on the gospel values of unconditional love and acceptance, and of indebtedness to the community. Work and responsibility continue to be cornerstones of the home. 


“Choose to persevere rather than to quit”


In memory of Fr. Wasson, and his commitment to children, at a moment when the earthquake dead were being recounted under high publicity, I imagined the many children of Haiti asking to be counted as the living…


“We are God’s children
The fruit of the earth
destined for greatness
we’ll show you our worth
Count us in as the living
The eager, the bold
Count us in as true friends whose proud stories are told
Count us in as the grateful for life and for bread
count us in we beg you
count on us, it’s our promise
Let’s begin!"


To view a slide show video of our work, click here. 


Fr. Rick Frechette, CP

We are a family.

We grieve again on this second anniversary of the Haiti earthquake, for those who lost their lives, for those who suffered so terribly, and for those dealing with its aftermath.


We must continue to do what we can to help, to show that we have not forgotten, to offer our love and support to the people of Haiti as they continue to recover.


And we must not lose hope, even if we must do this work alone. For we are not alone; we are a family. And God loves our family.


God bless.


John Iberle
Interim CEO, Friends of the Orphans

Click here to learn more about the work Friends and NPH is doing in Haiti.