The terrifying photos are all over the news and the headlines are just as horrific. The first time I was actually able to sit down and watch a news clip about the disaster, tears welled in my eyes. My grandma was sitting next to me, also watching as the camera panned onto small children with streaky faces from crying into the dust caked onto their cheeks. "Pobrecitos..." she whispered as shots of more children flowed onto the screen. Eerily, they trudged along, looking for their parents, or clinging onto whomever they could. The adults had it just as bad. Some had been trapped under fallen buildings, loosing limbs, loved ones or even their own lives. Rescue dogs found as many they could and the humans did the rest by trying to free them. Screams filled the air, some from grief, some from pain, but all filled with the amplifier that is a broken soul.
I sighed as the camera shot went back to the reporter, then the news anchor. The tears were subsiding, but my sadness for them remained. How lucky my grandma and I were to be safe at home, enjoying each other's company and waiting for our favorite television show to start. I wished the people on the news could feel safe too, that their fears and hopelessness would simply vanish and they could go home and play, smile.
As a Buddhist, I don't really pray, but I do believe that if enough people concentrate on achieving a common goal, it will happen. I have been keeping Haiti in my thoughts, even if I can't actually go help. Next NHS meeting, I also intend to propose an idea for a fundraiser or other project so that not only will they have my thoughts, they will have my helping hand. Hopefully everyone won't stop concentrating until we see Haiti through their devastation.