This picture is too big for me

"I see them boys in town, asking me how they can find a job to feed their families. They suffering. I just want to help them."

"I don't care too much about working at this hospital, where some these guys just trying to get rich and don't care how they treating people. I just want to take care of my family, maybe have a business, be responsible for myself."

"So many people out there are hungry. I let some out there have food from my house, but it's not enough."

"I want to build a safe house for my Mom to come and leave with me. I've only known her since I was 25 years old, but I'm so worried about her. Her situation makes me stress a lot." [breaking down crying here]

Robenson has been my most loyal accompanier here: guided me to households for my surveys, helped me ford small rivers, and lifted me down bleachers at the soccer stadium when things got rowdy. Via personal couriers to the US, he sent me inspiring letters. I received the last one just days after the earthquake: a lengthy spiritual reflection dated January 6, quoting from the Bible he'd asked me to send him over Christmas. I wept for him then from Boston, not yet knowing if he'd survived. He's a surviver.

I told him today about my plans: "That's fine if you gotta go work in Port au Prince. I understand. I'll follow you."

Deported and often shunned by his home culture, he deserves a chance in life. We talked about building job skills.... since we both know interpreter positions never have permanence. Potentially moving out of Leogane to follow connections or opportunities. If I do one good thing this year, it'd be to help him find a livelihood. He would be loyal to it, I hope. And I've seen him go beyond himself, with generosity to strangers in need. Though decidedly unpolished and often frustratingly distractable, I believe he is a samaritan.

"I worry about the situation in this country all the time. This picture is too big for me."