The tiny house was half cinderblock, half boards coated in reddish paint and dust. A door hung precariously from its hinges, and the padlock was not much of a safety feature. When the boys’ father wanted to get in, he’d just come in the window.
 
The boys – each one a smaller version of the next – could often be found playing in the street, their knees and feet gray with dust. If they wore clothes (which was not often), they were ill-fitting and torn.

But they were boys through and through – rambunctious, lords of their little manor. Unless their father stopped by.

You could tell when he had been near – the boys’ large brown eyes would fill with fear and distrust, sometimes anger. Their mother Maria was still a child when the man first came around; she was 11 when she had her first child, her only daughter. Within a year, the man kidnapped Maria from her home in Haiti and took her across the Dominican border; she never saw her daughter or parents again.

Maria lived in isolation. The man abandoned her in a community, but she could not speak Spanish and was considered an illegal immigrant because she had no birth certificate. As an illiterate young girl, Maria did not know where she was or how to get back to her family.

But that wasn’t the worst thing – the man continued to visit her in the night, violently forcing himself on her. She was soon pregnant with her first son, Anthony. And then came Luisito, and after him, Tony and then Jose Luis and then Luis Manuel.
When our staff first encountered Maria, she had five boys and was expecting her sixth. The family lived in the tiny cinderblock shelter with two mattresses, a plastic chair, and several buckets to serve as their water source, bathroom, and place to do laundry. The boys were dirty and hungry, Maria’s eyes were blank and lifeless.

Because they lived so close to one of Mission of Mercy’s projects, project workers could not help but notice the passel of boys playing in the street. The boys could not attend school because of their status; Maria’s lack of papers prevented the boys from receiving the birth certificates required to register in school.

Unsure of whether shame or fear kept Maria from looking them in the eye, our staff worked hard to win her over, providing food and clothing for the boys when they could, inviting the family to activities at the project. When they first came, the boys clung to their mother and each other, their eyes wary. Little Jose Luis was so shy, he hid from the camera.

It took time for Maria and her family to warm to the project director and staff, and even longer for the community to overcome the entrenched racism against Haitians. And after attending the project for almost two years, the transformation of the boys is so evident that many have been convicted of the way they treated the family.

The project director was able to secure birth certificates for the boys, and the three oldest are finally in school. Anthony, at 8 years old, continues to struggle because he cannot read or write. Thankfully, the project director has a background in literacy training and is working with Anthony and his mother to build their skills.

When we look at this family, we see the prophecy Jesus proclaimed from Isaiah 61:1-4 fulfilled:

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
   because the LORD has anointed me
   to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
   to proclaim freedom for the captives
   and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor
   and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
 and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
   instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
   instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
   instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
   a planting of the LORD
   for the display of his splendor.

This family has heard – and seen – the good news. With the help of project staff, the boys are being released from their poverty. They respond to the love and care of the community. Maria, freed from the captivity of her circumstances, has grown in confidence and dignity. The boys’ eyes no longer show that haunting spirit of despair, and their bodies and minds are growing stronger. This family does indeed display the Lord’s splendor!