For a fleeting moment, there existed the possibility that a friend would join me in Haiti. Today, the possibility grew small to nonexistent. I still hold on to the hope that some of my friends will pay a visit to Pwoje Espwa.
The other day, during a routine physical, I recommended my doctor read Tracy Kidder's Mountains Beyond Mountains. I figured that as a doctor, a story about a man who treats infectious diseases might appeal to him. He replied that not only did he not have time but that my passion did not need to become his passion. This struck latter assertion struck me with some force.
Why would I care that he didn't care? Why would I care that a friend won't be coming with me? It occurred to me: precisely because my passion must become his passion -- his or hers any body else's. How can someone make a difference if they can't interest others in their passion? It seems my challenge begins even before I step foot on the island again.
Contributions anyone?
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