IT IS FATE — JAMIE K CURTIS

I pull out of the school yard, unsure of who I was going to visit. I knew I wanted to visit students, I just didn’t know who. To give myself time to think, I decide to get a fresco (a frozen Haitian treat) from the market nearby. As Sonson and I pull up to park, three students appear: Loudemia, Dana Leïda, and little Fritznerline. It is fate; I am supposed to visit them.

As we head through the market to get fresco, they two older girls tell me their mother works in the market and we walk over to pay her a visit. I asked if we could visit their home, she says yes. But when they tell us where they live, Sonson is unsure if we should go. They live in an unsafe area in the midst of gang activity, and apparently it is not the best place to visit. However, I can't imagine why God would prohibit me from visiting these precious students just because of my potential physical danger. Feeling lead by the Spirit, we decide to go anyways. And knowing this may not be the safest feat, I pray. I let God know that I trust him, I trust that He is with us, and ask that He would protect us. I also send a quick message to a friend for some extra backup.

We pull up to their street and I get out of the car. Loudemia grabs ahold of my arm with a protective grip. Although she is only 13, she possesses strength and confidence as she leads me through the narrow ally ways. I feel safe.

Soon after, we arrive to their dark, hot, two-room home. Their mother had walked from her work at the market to meet us there. We sit and chat awhile with the her and the three girls. We find out Loudemia’s father had passed away and Dana Leïda’s father is not present. Fritnerline is her granddaughter, and lives in the home along with her young mother. Her father is present, but does not live in the home. She tells us that that she, all 9 children, and one grandchild live together in this home. I do the math and figure out that is a total of 11 people in this small house with 4 beds to share.

I ask who provides for this family and she replies, "me and God."

While sitting in their presence in there home, I sense joy. I am amazed that in the midst of poverty, physical danger, and sorrow, this family still chooses to trust God - our provider, protector, and comforter. This is a true testimony that our circumstances do not have to determine our joy, God does.