Our organization was founded to train people in the field so that they in turn can help to alleviate the mental and physical suffering of those who need it. That was our objective when we went to Haiti. We had prepared everything: the logistics, the trainer, our personal tools and even the Tappy Bear that little Americans tap on to help them learn EFT and emotional projection. Tappy was there, in our suitcases, surrounded by other anonymous soft toys and dolls, toys, crayons, balls, and even medicines for the children. We’d even written and practiced a nursery rhyme in French and in Creole to work with the children and our friend Tappy! We’d really planned everything and, above all, we kept an open mind and heart to be able to give and receive more openly. And we received so much with the arrival of this group of children! They’d walked for 45 minutes under the fierce midday sun on bumpy, wet roads after the previous day’s rain. Their brown legs were covered in thick splashes of mud.
These children were too good, and we approached them too directly – until we realized that they needed time to tame us, to want to be with us, to cooperate with us. Just enough time to settle into their space and look at us, talk to us, ask us questions, choose us, touch Jean-Michel’s white skin, the bleached hair of his sunburned arms, compare it to theirs, seek our smiles… generously…
And the magic worked, even faster than EFT! These children in our arms, for long moments, interminable moments in search of contact and tenderness after the loss of their parents; very small ones, and bigger ones, snugly cuddled in my arms. I don’t know whether it was my hands that caressed their bodies or whether their bodies came to me, making my hands softer, more tender. I can’t remember how many came to sit against me, how many gentle kisses I left on their skin, on their necks and their cheeks. But I clearly remember the intense emotion I still feel writing these words, and their faces as they came towards me with their innocence.
This was just before they said that they were hungry. It was also two days before we visited their orphanage, at Gustave’s place. Gustave had brought them to us so that we wouldn’t see where he permanently housed thirty or so orphans since the earthquake. In this place that he was ashamed to show us, he receives 170 children during the day, to keep them away from the unbearable reality of the street children. He tries to give them some education, manages to clothe them, and at night gives them a place, albeit in miserable conditions, so that they don’t go wandering around. We were open to anything, but the shock hit us hard. We’d gone there to give training in EFT and we found ourselves having to meet the most basic needs of 170 children and some adults who hoped for nothing more than to be able to eat the next day – although they modestly told us that they lacked nothing!
We had indeed planned everything, but from that point onwards we had to improvise: Jean-Michel with local currency that he’d drawn from a bank – itself difficult to find – that morning, and me with the Euros that I’d kept to buy souvenirs. Our thoughts converged: emergency, humanity, a food wholesaler who waited for our late arrival, at Father Clark’s request, because that day was a holiday and everything was closing early. We turned into Father Christmas. The next day the children would have milk and smoked herrings. We filled our van with basic foods. For the Western Santa Clauses that we were there was very little variety, but it matched what Gustave had suggested.
All of us have played Father Christmas once in our lives, but we now know that we’ll need your help to meet these children’s most basic needs: regular meals and education in a school that Energies Psy Sans Frontières hopes to build for them, in which the emotional aspect needed for human fulfilment can heal and develop, thanks to EFT.
This is what is needed if we are to fully accomplish our mission.