An excerpt from Footprints in Haiti (while on the mission field in 2017.) For the past few days, I have seen the same man returning from a day’s work in the garden. He is old. His back is hunched over. He carries a tattered tote bag and a bunch of bananas over his shoulder. His shoes are so worn out, and his feet push inward as he makes his way over the rocky path. I snap his photo, not to disrespect him or take his privacy, but as a reminder of the lesson he taught me this afternoon. Every time I see his shoes, my heart hurts. I want to run to the market and buy him a proper pair of boots and a new garden tote. I can’t and I won’t because that is not helping. When he realized I was walking behind him, he stopped to say hello. He proudly told me about the bananas that he is harvesting now. He thanks God for his day in the garden. We bid farewell and agree that we will see each other again soon. My thoughts go to a place of gratitude for our chat, yet honestly… I feel guilty too. My expectations are wrong to place on him. He doesn’t need my pity for his broken shoes or tattered bag. What is a hardscrabble life here in Haiti… is his life, which he lives well. I imagine he looks down at his shoes and sees the thousands of steps they have taken him, his life’s journey. No matter what… he thanks God. I won’t feel pity for what he doesn’t have or what I think needs replacing in his life, according to my expectations. Pity is not necessary because he has mastered the art of gratitude.
By: Kim Snyder
~ Christ Fellowship