A year later, I’m standing inside a small chapel on the grounds of a hospital in Port-au-Prince. Another hauntingly beautiful melody rings out, but this time, it is one of hope.   

Her name is Desir Marie Esther and she is a survivor of the January earthquake. She is also an orphan and since age 11, has been living under the care of Father Rick’s orphanage outside the capital city.

We were introduced to Desir by Father Rick at the St. Damien Pediatric Hospital in Port-au-Prince where he serves as a doctor, priest and visionary.

“She has a really good voice,” he told us.

Desir has been singing in her church since she was six years old. After the quake, the now 29-year-old young woman was inspired to write a song.

“Do you know who Andrea Boccelli is?” Father Rick casually asked me.

I nodded in immediate recognition of the world-renown Italian tenor singer.

“He’s performing a benefit concert in Milan, Italy, in two months to help our efforts here in Haiti and Desir is going to perform her song there,” he said, beaming with pride.

In the small chapel on the grounds of St. Damien hospital, I listened as Desir’s pure voice rang out, accompanied only by the occasional sound of babies crying in the distance from one of the pediatric wards.

It was hauntingly beautiful … a melodic tribute to the hundreds of thousands of lives lost in the quake and to the broken and hurting survivors who remain.

Click here to listen to Desir’s song and view a special photo gallery in remembrance of the six-month anniversary of the Haiti quake.

Several weeks ago, Dr. Alix, the hospital’s administrator, contacted me and asked for help. I know Dr. Alix well. OB was working at the hospital on the day of the earthquake, and has since provided a water purification plant, 12 truckloads of medicine, and cash to help pay for unbudgeted staff needs. Dr. Alix explained that the 700-bed hospital was limping along with only one working X-ray machine and one antique film developer. Both were running 24 hours a day and falling farther behind. The rest of the equipment was broken or had worn out. The radiology department waiting rooms were overflowing with sweating patients sitting on long benches, waiting their turn. The situation was desperate.

I called my friend Jerry. Last year Jerry and Medical Equipment Corporation, his Virginia Beach-based med tech firm, helped us get the X-ray rooms in Honduras’ largest hospital up and running. I told Jerry what the situation was and he graciously offered his services pro bono. As always, OB agreed to pick up his travel expenses. A few days later Jerry arrived in Port-au-Prince on the AA flight from Miami and I met him at the airport. We whisked him to the hospital for a meeting with Dr. Alix and the radiology chief. During the next few days Jerry sweated off about 10 pounds and skinned all his knuckles struggling with the the broken units, but lack of spares and an inconsistent power supply frustrated his efforts.

Jerry analyzed what was needed, returned to Va. Beach and began gathering parts and components. Last week he called and said the shipment, weighing about 2 tons, was ready to go. It consisted of 2 complete portable X-ray machines, an automatic film processor, a single phase generator and an assortment of spares to fix the hospital’s existing machines. The shipment went out by air late last week. This week we are dealing with Haiti customs to get the shipment out in time for Jerry’s arrival on Friday. He and his son Kevin will work all weekend to install the new equipment and repair the broken machines. They hope to finish by Tuesday and fly home.

This is another example of how OB acts as a force multiplier. We multiply donor dollars by thinking like entrepreneurs. We are always looking for ways to leverage resources. In this case, by thinking strategically, moving quickly, utilizing our network of expert friends and spending a few dollars for airplane tickets and air freight, we are providing hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of machinery that will save lives and alleviate the suffering of countless poor people in Haiti.

SAN VICENTE, El Salvador- We arrived to the center of San Vicente where donations were being brought in from several organizations and dozens of El Salvadorians were working hard to bring relief to their fellow victims.

Trucks carrying huge 100 lb. sacks of rice, crates of eggs and fruits, branches full of plantains and other relief goods arrived into the devastated area and began unloading the supplies at a local catholic church. From there, women and children sorted through the donations and began packaging the relief items into black plastic bags for distribution. Six coffins also sat at the entrance of the church.

Cristina, the church administrator, told us that she is working hard to take care of her people. She escaped from her house with only the clothes on her back before a mudslide buried her home.

“The only thing that keeps me going and not crying is the chance I have to serve others,” she told me.

Hundreds of people were roaming the street, now without homes or possessions. It seems there is complete confusion and desperation.

Despite the fact that trucks have already cleared more than 22 tons of mud, dirt and debris from the village, huge rocks and piles of mud still fill the streets as a result of the rain that swept through this village and triggered massive landslides.

Those who were lucky enough to have their houses still standing watched the relief efforts from their porches or roof tops.

We sensed a “heaviness” in the air that left us wondering how many lives had been lost and how many thousands of men, women and children no longer have a place to live–families who do not know when they will be able to go “home” again.

Teams with Operation Blessing El Salvador brought 183 (5 gallon) buckets of dried fruit to help supplement the food donations. We have also coordinated with local authorities to set up a medical campaign at the two relief shelters here.

Tomorrow, we will bring Mayo Clinic doctors as well as local doctors to assist these victims. 

As we were leaving we noticed a family digging mud out of their home with a shovel. Erlinda, age 66, cried as she told us how she heard the rocks and mud crashing down on their home and buried the patio area beneath more than 6 feet of mud and debris.

“God saved me three times,” she told me. “First from the war, then the earthquake in 2001 and now, these landslides.”

She asked if we would return and I assured her that tomorrow we would return with doctors from abroad to help her and the El Salvadorian people.

JEREMIE, Haiti – The air was hot and sticky, and thick with the smell of sewage as we made our way to a school in the poorest part of the city of Jeremie.

Each child was wearing a green uniform with their name written on it so they would know which one is theirs when they get to school in the morning. Every day, the children arrive in rags and then change into their uniforms.

As we entered the crowded classroom, I watched as mangy dogs and puppies moved slowly between the children; despite the efforts to make improvements, the school still remains very dilapidated.

About 300 children attend this school, 40 of whom live on the school grounds at a small orphanage, while the rest live in the surrounding slums.

But poverty here is only half the battle for these children. The other is the fight against intestinal parasites. Every day, parasites rob these children of their health and prevent them from getting what little nutrition is available from the meager meals they eat.

Operation Blessing was there as part of a city-wide anti-parasite campaign in partnership with the Ministry of Health and local church, with teams and volunteers distributing pills to 1,783 children in schools and orphanages across the city.

At the orphanage, a worker ground up pills and mixed them with water to treat a group of 4 malnourished infants—children abandoned and taken in by the orphanage.

After distributing pills to all the children we were introduced to two little girls who are students at the school—Natasha, 9, and Jocoline, 10.

They took us to see their homes and Natasha gripped my hand tightly as we navigated the narrow streets to the one-room shack where she and her family lived.

The mattress on their bed was made out of old clothes and rags tied together. Their only possessions were a small charcoal stove and a bed. There was not even a door to their mud hut, which was tiny and hot inside.

Jocoline’s house was not much better; she lived with her elderly grandmother and 3 brothers.

It’s hard to believe that such poverty exists so close to our own borders—but it’s here and it’s real.

As we walked back to the school I realized just how much these children need, but I also saw hope in their faces. By undertaking this kind of program to strengthen children’s health, we are ultimately laying the building blocks to transform Haiti.