>Sad doesn’t really describe it

>For some reason I have become very haunted by this one particular child I saw on the news in Haiti. Katie Couric was visiting wounded people, and she came across a boy – probably 8 or 9. He had leg injuries and a head injury – and he was lying in a tent full of the hurt and dead. His parents had died in the quake. He was all alone. He was wailing….WHY WHY WHY, and Katie just held his hand and looked like she felt so helpless.

I cannot stop thinking about him.

I burst into tears randomly throughout the day.

I long to hold him in my arms and shower him with kisses.

I want to wash his wounds and hold his hand.

I can’t sleep, or if I do sleep I have weird dreams and wake up wanting to see my baby immediately. I have almost woken him up several times just to smell him.

I know there are thousands of stories just like this, I know there are thousands of children in need there – but THAT boy is the one I can’t get out of my head. We have done what we can as private citizens, I guess…donated money, donated our frequent flier miles. I will donate more later, send toiletries, whatever I can. I just feel so helpless…no matter what I do, its not enough and will not get to THAT one boy. I sit here in my nice house, with my family, with water and food and clothes and electronics and so much, so so much….and he has nothing. Not even his parents.

I imagine his terror…the pain, the horror, the sadness, the fear. I imagine him having that horrible panicky tight feeling in his chest, wanting his Momma, but she is dead. I imagine the fresh horror he feels every time he wakes up and realizes all over again what has happened to him. Then I get that panicky tight feeling in my chest and can’t breathe. He is in pain and terrified, and I hate it. I think about my own baby – all alone. I imagine my nephew, who is 7 – if his parents just died and he was hurt and alone in a tent – the complete agony.

How can there be a God, to allow such suffering? I don’t understand. I want that boy, but there is no way to get to him.

EDITED TO ADD: I did some research, and found out more. He is actually 13, and his name is Pierre. His grandmother was found, so he is not alone. I guess this makes me feel a little better, to know he has someone familiar to love him. Pierre, you will never see this – but I love you too.


2 Responses to “>Sad doesn’t really describe it”

  1. 1 Niksmom January 18, 2010 at 5:13 pm

    >I understand exactly what you described, Kate. It's so devastatingly awful that it hurts.

  2. 2 edenland January 19, 2010 at 9:58 am

    >I get this so so much, Katiest Pie in all the land. And I'm half a world away. I can't even write right now, I'm just speechless.I feel exactly what you have with Pierre …. my little girl is Winnie. I'm going to write about her, too. Almost the same age as Rocco.On a different, more self-indulgent note …… I AM SO EXCITED TO BE YOUR ROOMIE AT BLOGHER. Wootie hot-patootie, man.You rock.Also, you're not allowed to stop blogging. I love your blog and I love you.XOXOXOXOXOOX

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