The word cholera will forever mark this season of serving in Haiti. The very word ushers in vivid memories of the people we have held closely, prayed with, and watched over through the long recesses of the night.

We witnessed God perform countless miracles as we pled for lives that were near the brink of death. We rejoiced together as many that were seemingly lost were spared. We have watched God move among our work here. His compassion has found a home in our hands, in the way we treat and serve.




The prevention and treatment of the waterborne illness has been a main focus of the Samaritan’s Purse Haiti team over the past several months. Recently, the reality has hit that cholera still has a tight grip on the country.

With the rainy season on its way, numbers are expected to spike again in the coming months. Recent reports state that infection rates could hit close to 800,000 people by November—much higher than initial projections. Samaritan’s Purse is continuing to walk alongside the Haitian people as we treat, educate and prepare for the next wave of the outbreak.




In Cite Soleil, new cases appear each day, many of them women and young children. The Samaritan’s Purse cholera clinic is taking patients from neighboring communities where other treatment centers have closed.

Currently, the Samaritan’s Purse facility is the only one open around the clock, seven days a week, in Cite Soleil. Our staff and volunteer doctors and nurses tirelessly treat each day and night as the sick find their way to our clinic, some carried or driven, others with barely enough strength to walk.




Weislan arrived two days ago with her granddaughter Juliette. She is tired, and her eyes tell of her anxiety about cholera spreading.

“My husband was treated here for cholera, and so was my son in December,” she said. “It is a great concern for me that people are still getting it—especially the children.”

She looks over wearily at her granddaughter who is sitting up. Her tiny legs rest limp, her eyes and mouth show little expression. The little girl is also battling a fever today, and may also be infected with malaria.

“What makes this worse is that more children are getting it instead of adults,” Weislan says, anxiety clear in her voice. “In my household, everyone has gotten it except for me. I know how to prevent it, but sometimes, this fight seems impossible. I feel at peace, though, to know that you were still here and open.”




Augustina also is very familiar with the love that is found between these makeshift clinic walls. It is a place that has become a source of comfort for her tired heart. She lies in the next ward over. She is 65 and alone; her family was all taken in the earthquake. Her eyes are moist with tears as she recounts January, 2010.

“I was downtown when the earthquake hit,” she said. “My family—all of them—were in our house. When I came running back to it there was nothing left but a pile of rubble. All that mattered to me was under there.”

Augustina looks away before continuing.

“My husband and daughter both perished. And now, I have cholera. I have no one at home to care for me. My neighbor took me to another hospital first. They transferred me here, because this is the place where people with cholera are taken.” She pauses. “The doctors didn’t care about me at all. Here, they help me, they take care of me.”

She points to one of the Samaritan’s Purse nurses who is standing a few feet away. “And they don’t make me feel like I am a burden.”

Her words hung in the air. Augustina’s sweet smile spoke of her gentle spirit. How could anyone consider her a burden?

The countless stories of heartbreak we have heard from earthquake survivors came flooding back. This nation has endured untold tragedy after tragedy. Augustina was a striking reminder of the pain that many are still wrestling with from their losses barely over a year ago.

Her story was an even stronger reminder of the reason that Samaritan’s Purse is here, treating and loving these survivors, emulating the ministry of Jesus. The way our staff and volunteers care is different, and people feel it.

Samaritan's Purse , Haiti , Help for Haiti , Continuing the Fight