It's the Little Things...

Who would've thought that something as simple as lending someone my phone could change their life forever?

I discovered a day after the earthquake that my co-worker could not locate her daughter or sister in Haiti. All I could do is pray for her. What consolation can you offer to someone who can't find their loved ones? It burned me inside that I couldn't do much more, but I continued to pray at night for her family's safe return. When her sister felt the rumble inside their home - she grabbed the daughter and ran out of the house. Seconds after escaping - the entire building began to crumble to the ground. They escaped with their lives, cell phones and nothing more.

That being said - hope existed that she would be re-united with her daughter and sibling. Family had heard from them, and information that her daughter was still alive got passed to her. After days without communication, though - the glint of hope soon was replaced with feelings of doubt and worry. Ferv told me she woke up one night, lurched out of her sleep - ran outside and began to scream. The frustration was too much for her to bear. She managed to bring one child to the states, and this time yesterday - her daughter would have been here as well. Before tragedy struck, of course. Imagine the thought - if you were just a few days earlier, you would have had her in your arms - safe. It would just kill me.

So, last night - Ferv ran up to me frantically - "I missed a call from Haiti. Do you have a T-Mobile phone?" Rumor had it that T-Mobile was allowing its subscribers to call Haiti as a domestic call - meaning the international fees were waived. I called them to confirm - and sure enough, it was true. I gave her my phone and let her hold it for the evening. After try after try - she got through to her aunt - only to find out that they still hadn't heard anything new from her daughter.

It ripped me apart to watch her tell me the story of her agony. How her ulcer had been flaring up, how she had been bleeding internally for the past week. The stress was killing her. I was brought to tears - imagining her eleven year-old daughter, roaming the crime-ridden streets of Haiti. Sleeping amongst dead bodies, no food and just the clothes on her back. I sat in the car and wept. What could I do? The next day, she asked for my phone again - no update after an hour of calling. She was at her wit's end. The anguish in her face was all I needed to empathize with her. September 11th 2001 was the closest I have come to feeling those same emotions - and I never want to feel them again. If there was anything I could do to help Ferv - believe I was gonna do it. She asked to see my phone again before my shift ended, and I promised to bring it to her as soon as I clocked out. Five o'clock hit - and I punched out and zoomed on my way home. One quarter of the way there, I realized I never brough the phone back to her. I turned around in the cleanest u-turn ever - and drove back to work, just for her. That phone call was fruitless, and I reluctantly took my phone home.

Not even ten minutes ago - I got a phone call and recognized the codes Ferv repeatedly asked me to dial. I quickly answered, and somehow - my Spanish and their Creole coincided and I managed to keep them on the line. I conferenced the call and got her on the line. Don't ask me why, but I listened to the conversation as if I knew what they were saying - and picked up nothing.

She thanked me a million times - and told me that her family had located her sister and daughter - and will be picking them up tomorrow and bringing them back to where they are. I was elated!! I hung up the phone and thanked God. All now - I can't stop crying.

All I can say is -

God - is - amazing.