Pray for Haiti

I know someone in Haiti. In fact, she is my second mother. Michel lived with our family from the time I was 4 months old until I was 9. My parents sponsored her in 1969 and she came to live with us in our house in Washington, DC. In 1973, when we moved to New York, she came with us. Her bedroom was next to mine and I crawled in her bed almost every night. When my sister and I got older, she took a job at the Reader's Digest, where my father worked. She made all the salads for the cafeteria. Beautiful creations that she took pride in. She got her U.S. citizenship in 1994. I was there for the official ceremony. Three years ago, she and her husband returned to their native Haiti to live out their retirement. They visit the U.S. a couple of times a year and return to Haiti with suitcases full of cooking oil and sugar and flour because supplies are so scarce in Haiti. They are U.S. citizens, but choose to live in one of the most dangerous, impoverished countries on the planet. Their homeland. The last time I saw her was last March at the JFK airport, where we took this picture. I don't know if she and her husband are safe. I can only pray.