On my last morning in Haiti, I joined a group of 6-9 yr old boys sitting in a circle on the grass talking. When I walked up, I saw that 4 of the boys had name tags (a sign they were some of the newly resettled orphans from Port au Prince), and 1 boy without (meaning he was a "native" of the orphanage-- and spoke English). I sat down and smiled, just wanted to be present with them.
The native boy tried to tell me what they were talking about. He said, "This boy says that if you tell a story in the morning, your mom and your dad will die. Is that true?" I furrowed my brow and said no-- absolutely that's not true-- you can tell stories all day long and no one will die because of it. The boy replied, "That's what I told him, but he doesn't believe me."
I thought for a bit and realized this little boy-- newly orphaned-- was full of guilt. He thought he killed his parents. I asked the native boy to translate:
...ask him if his parents died in the earthquake. ...Yes, they did.
...Ask him if he told a story to them before that happened. ...Yes, that morning he told them a funny story and they laughed and made fun of him.
...Ask him if it was a true story or a lie. ...It was a true story, they just thought it was funny.
...Ask him if he thinks he killed his parents. ... Yes.
In our broken translation (with a 9 yr old translator) I tried to reassure this precious little boy that it wasn't his fault. That earthquakes happen, hurricanes happen, people die. That his story telling had nothing to do with it. In the end, he said he "believed me"... but he vowed never to tell another story "just in case".
1 comment:
precious little boy. such innocence with that guilt. i'm glad you were there to help him process it all.
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