Lebt: Shone

It was nine o'clock when Maou suggested we go to the beach. The tropical sun had set hours earlier, taking with it its burning heat. In its place the gentle moon had risen and a cooling breeze cme from cross the water, crooked her finger enticingly and added her soft pleas to Matou;'s. It didn't take much effort for her to me, nor for Matou. I'd fallen in love with Haiti and its beaches nearly 30 years earlier, and the chance to dip my toes in Agwe's cool waters is one I can never ignore. We were there with a local pastor who lived in New Jersey and who was interested in starting an orphanage in Archaie, He was hoping we would partner with him in this new venture. We had spent s couple hours earlier that evening in the main room of his sister‘s house, singing loudly in Haitian Kreyol and talking theology with him and members of his sister‘s congregation. Thomas was harder to convince. Accustomed as he was to the lights of New Jersey, Thomas fretted concerned that it was too dark. With no electricity, there were no street lamps. He needn't have worried. The moon was out and the stars glittered in the night sky like a million tiny candles. They walked us all the way there, and back.