Last night my dad returned from Haiti -- brining with him lots of pictures and a refreshed perspective on life and humanity. He is my hero. Last week he emailed me and said that if I were with him, I wouldn't want to leave the people. He's probably right. He loves children and is so amazing with them. My dad brought his old softball glove and some softballs, and taught a few boys how to play ball. He is blind to color or status or sex. He get's it.
When I see my fathers passion for others, I am at my proudest. I want to mirror him and long to one day humble myself in ways that he does so often. He is such an inspiration; one of the few people who understands me and has the courage to do things I can only dream of. He left us and went to Haiti on his own, with a group of others he didn't necessarily know. He's brave and strong and happy and the best example of love. The best example of peace and innocence.
I don't want to babble or put my perspective on a trip that I was not able to attend. Instead, I want to share with you some photos that he took. I hope they inspire you in the way that they did me.
We have grown literally afraid to be poor. We despise anyone who elects to be poor in order to simplify and save his inner life. If he does not join the general scramble and pant with the money-making street, we deem him spiritless and lacking in ambition.