Unpoetic Maniac

I didn’t blog last night. I didn’t have words. I thought I had them yesterday afternoon. I thought I could tell you about playing soccer with boys that should be in school and should have been eating lunch and should have a soccer ball without a 3 inch hole in it and how they got mad when I scored and laughed together when they scored on me.

I thought I could tell you the story of Feefee, who Kristopher Rutherford and I spent the day filming and cooking with and falling in love with. Feefee is my new friend and I can’t wait for you to meet her but not today.


I didn’t blog last night because I needed to sleep before I could process that 5 o’clock pm was not a bad dream.

I needed to be sure because I was about to act like a maniac and it felt like there was a very real chance that I had imagined last night.

There are 20,000 people, most of them children, sleeping in tents on a golf course 2 hours off the coast of Florida.

Doctors and drivers and mechanics and moms who used to have houses but they crumbled nearly 3 years ago and they don’t have insurance for the house they had saved for years to build for their family. And tent city is a better option than their car and and if all you own was gone and all the jobs were gone and there were not homeless shelters and soup kitchens... we’d be in a tent too. We don’t know life without safety nets- we get to build so many of them.

Haiti has never had the luxury of safety nets. That’s a story for tomorrow. But they have us....we can share our nets with them.

In these tents malaria spreads like wildfire, there aren’t keys to lock your door so rape is rampant, children are vulnerable to too many things to ever mention. But look what I saw...

Little boys doing their homework outside their tent.

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Little girls sweeping the dirt floor.

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I am sorry let me say that one more time... they sweep their dirt floors. I just didn’t want you to miss that.

Clothes washed and hanging to dry.

Worship full of joy- full of hope- and full of pain too.

I don’t have fancy words for this like I am sure my friends were poised enough to write beautifully last night. I have a drum and I hear it and I will beat it loudly right now.

This is real. They are here. Right here- our neighbors. They need sparks to fall into their lives. They do not need hand outs.

BUT they need us to partner and help rebuild their lives... just like we do for each other if there is a fire or a death... we make casseroles and buy new sheets... we rally.


My friends Feefee and Annis and their three kids (who you will get to meet after we edit) lived in there car and then a tent for months after the earthquake, after their house crumbled. But they are thriving today.... working and paying for their kids school because a pastor recently said.... we want to help you build your home back.

We get to be a part of restoring lives... building back a country that fell apart before our eyes.... RALLY.

We are going to get to be a part of something.... stay tuned.

And go crazy with me.

Photos courtesy of the talented Molly Donovan Burpo and Scott Wade. You can follow our Twitter and Instagram feeds at #Help1Haiti

Jennie Allen16 Comments