In December 1998, I embarked on a mission trip to Haiti with a church group from Salisbury Presbyterian Church in Midlothian, Virginia. For five years, I had promised myself to dedicate one week annually to giving back, and this trip was the fulfillment of that promise. The goal was to help build a home for Rodney and Sharon Babe, a couple devoted to God's work in Haiti, and assist with their ongoing community mission.

We arrived in Port-au-Prince amidst a tropical storm, an unexpected challenge during the dry season. The seven of us piled into an old bus driven by Mimi, a Haitian man, and needed local help to bump-start it before setting off on our journey to L'Acul. Despite the weather, we made it safely to our destination.

Rodney and Sharon had lived in Haiti for years, and their decision to build a home was both a personal and mission-driven one. The house would serve as shelter and a base for their continued work in the community. Our tasks began the next day, and I was assigned to install plumbing—a luxury in Haiti, where many still relied on outhouses. Other members of the team worked on constructing doors and windows, contributing to a home that would also help Rodney and Sharon better serve their mission.

Aside from construction, the trip was filled with unexpected experiences. One night, I was kept awake by a loud voodoo party next door, accompanied by the unsettling sounds of a passing goat truck carrying animals in distress. The next day, tensions escalated in the city due to a protest against the Haitian president. Mimi rushed us into a "tap-tap," a local truck, to escape the chaos, but we were trapped in roadblocks, encountering burning tires and angry crowds. Seeking safety, Mimi drove us to his sister's house, where we played with local children until it was safe to leave.

When we tried to return to L'Acul, roadblocks stopped us again. Lost in the city, we found shelter at an orphanage where a church group from Oregon welcomed us. The children there, despite their hardships, were full of joy. They sang Christmas carols in both English and Creole, and some even made drums from makeshift materials. I was struck by their resilience and happiness in the face of adversity.

We spent the night at the orphanage, eating simple food and gathering water for the community. As I sat on the roof, reflecting on the chaos below, I was deeply moved by the sight of children playing soccer on concrete, riding old tricycles, and flying a makeshift kite made of a trash bag. Their laughter and joy were infectious, reminding me of the profound strength they found in small moments of happiness.

The next day, we tried to return to Port-au-Prince. Leaving the orphanage, I couldn’t shake the feeling of sadness for the children, who slept in conditions far from what I knew, yet radiated joy. It was a sharp contrast to the comfortable life I was returning to.

Leaving Haiti, I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude and humility. I reflected on the importance of mission trips and the generosity of organizations like Haiti Fund, volunteers, doctors, or mission teams that provide not only material aid but also love and support. The trip had changed me in ways I hadn’t expected—reminding me that even small acts of service can make a big difference, and that sometimes, the most meaningful work is done not by those in power, but by those who show up with open hearts.