The Skinny Silent Haitian Boy By Madisen Lynch

When you stare in the Haitian’s deep brown warm eyes, it’s like a winter day, but you’re inside by a
warm fire reading a good book. 

Actually, you’re in the streets of Haiti where it smells and there is garbage everywhere and it’s hot everyday.

 Haitians stare at me forever, though the car window but than your cars starts moving. 

With hands out the Haitian children leaned against our window to see into a locked car with a sad face.

“Mom, can I give this little boy some money?” I asked my mother.

“No, you can’t!”  She replied to me.

“Why not?” I whined.                                                                                                      

Because if they see you ever again they will ask you for money every single time.

Haitian money is eight to one to American money or only a few cents per dollar.

“Fine” I mumbled to myself.  

We finally started moving and he was still standing there with that same sad look on his face.

 It is hard for many children to grow up in a third world country.

 In Haiti many children beg for money on the streets.

My parents are missionaries and we lived in Haiti and have just come back to the U.S.

We are lucky, as Americans when we get something like food.   

You eat some of it and then you throw it away.

People in Haiti would love that food in their tummies.

So feel lucky for what you have.

I can’t stop remembering that boy’s face.

 It’s like a sticker on my brain.