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The starfish pendant Marianne Milks of Cherry Ridge wears around her neck tells you a lot about her character. It goes along with the story of a man bent on saving as many starfish as he can that have washed up on shore. There are so many, he’s told by a passerby, that his efforts can’t possibly make a difference. Yet, he calmly bends and picks up another to toss back into the ocean. “It makes a difference to that one,” he says.
Marianne has been to Haiti seven times, determined to help where needed. Her heart is moved by the many malnourished children she sees.
It was early on that she met Jean-Marie Baptiste, then a three-month-old little boy who was HIV positive. Comatose and about a day away from death. Marianne remembers cradling his little body in her arms, willing him to live, feeding him formula every three hours. “I just sang to him and held him and stroked his cheek — things a mother does,” she said. For two weeks, she stayed by his side. On day three, he started to rally. “He was three pounds, six ounces when I found him. He’s my little miracle boy,” she says. Today, he’s a healthy three-year-old. The Milks family sends money so Jean-Marie’s mom can buy food for the family and ensures that she, her three younger brothers, and Jean-Marie all attend school.
And Jean-Marie is no longer HIV positive.
“It’s poor everywhere”
In Haiti “there’s poor and poorer, basically. I think that what we see on TV about developing poor countries still paints too romantic a picture ...The countries that we see all have the balance in the cities of work, of business, of well-built cities. And in Haiti, such places just don’t exist. There are no high-rise buildings. There are no thriving businesses. It’s poor everywhere,” she said.
Remembering her first glimpse of Haiti, Marianne says, “It was like I stepped into a completely different world. Everything: the sights, the sounds, smells, the language. It just hit me with awe more than anything else. I had been to Bulgaria —that was very poor—but this was like nothing else,” she said. Most all of their clothing is used, bought along the street or given by Americans.
Regardless of what the people have, they are immaculate, she said. “The houses are clean ...scrubbed inside and out. Clothing gets washed until there’s not one spot left on it.” Marianne says. “The men all wear button-up shirts, even when they do dirty work.” It’s a matter of pride, she says. “What really struck me, on Sundays, everyone is dressed to a Tee. And the suits may not fit and the ties may not match, but they’re dressed beautifully. And the women walk down the mountain on bare feet and carry their shoes in a baggy and put them on behind the church wall — mostly because they don’t want to ruin their shoes.
The starfish pendant Marianne Milks of Cherry Ridge wears around her neck tells you a lot about her character. It goes along with the story of a man bent on saving as many starfish as he can that have washed up on shore. There are so many, he’s told by a passerby, that his efforts can’t possibly make a difference. Yet, he calmly bends and picks up another to toss back into the ocean. “It makes a difference to that one,” he says.
Marianne has been to Haiti seven times, determined to help where needed. Her heart is moved by the many malnourished children she sees.
It was early on that she met Jean-Marie Baptiste, then a three-month-old little boy who was HIV positive. Comatose and about a day away from death. Marianne remembers cradling his little body in her arms, willing him to live, feeding him formula every three hours. “I just sang to him and held him and stroked his cheek — things a mother does,” she said. For two weeks, she stayed by his side. On day three, he started to rally. “He was three pounds, six ounces when I found him. He’s my little miracle boy,” she says. Today, he’s a healthy three-year-old. The Milks family sends money so Jean-Marie’s mom can buy food for the family and ensures that she, her three younger brothers, and Jean-Marie all attend school.
And Jean-Marie is no longer HIV positive.
“It’s poor everywhere”
In Haiti “there’s poor and poorer, basically. I think that what we see on TV about developing poor countries still paints too romantic a picture ...The countries that we see all have the balance in the cities of work, of business, of well-built cities. And in Haiti, such places just don’t exist. There are no high-rise buildings. There are no thriving businesses. It’s poor everywhere,” she said.
Remembering her first glimpse of Haiti, Marianne says, “It was like I stepped into a completely different world. Everything: the sights, the sounds, smells, the language. It just hit me with awe more than anything else. I had been to Bulgaria —that was very poor—but this was like nothing else,” she said. Most all of their clothing is used, bought along the street or given by Americans.
Regardless of what the people have, they are immaculate, she said. “The houses are clean ...scrubbed inside and out. Clothing gets washed until there’s not one spot left on it.” Marianne says. “The men all wear button-up shirts, even when they do dirty work.” It’s a matter of pride, she says. “What really struck me, on Sundays, everyone is dressed to a Tee. And the suits may not fit and the ties may not match, but they’re dressed beautifully. And the women walk down the mountain on bare feet and carry their shoes in a baggy and put them on behind the church wall — mostly because they don’t want to ruin their shoes.
“I think their sense of ownership is so different than ours that they don’t even relate to it. I really mean in their possessions. They don’t need quantity. They want to turn it into quality,” she said.
Family visit
Marianne’s last visit, around Christmastime, included her husband, Dr. Carl Milks and adult son, Sander. Dr. Milks, a local allergist and former pediatrician, worked tirelessly around the clock, administering care, treating malnutrition, tropical diseases, and serious wounds. Son Sander, a professional photographer, captured the essence of the people through his lens, completing a volunteer job for a fundraising publication.
Marianne goes because she loves being there. “I love being part of their culture and being with them. I am by nature a teacher, and if there’s something I can contribute for them to carry on in their own society, then I think that perhaps I’ve been there for the right reason. I find it a humbling experience to be in Haiti. The people are beautiful. They’re so eager to be their best and give their children the best: education, family structure, obedience, self-respect and respect for their elders — that’s very, very important in their society.”
But, this last trip was somewhat of a disappointment for Marianne. It was last August that she funneled her efforts and energy into securing nutritious food for malnourished children being treated at the Albert Schweitzer Hospital, where her husband volunteered. What she discovered is UNICEF makes four different kinds of packaged nutrition and gives it away for free. “Most know PlumpyNut,” she said, made with peanut butter, sugar, vegetable oil, whole milk powder, and high doses of vitamins and minerals. Children near death from malnutrition respond within three days of receiving the vitamin-packed food. “They sit up and talk and eat independently. And generally, by the fifth day, they’re well enough to go home,” she said.
She went to Haiti in October, after corresponding with UNICEF daily by e-mail, to secure an ongoing food source. When she returned to the United States, she did so with a happy heart, knowing the malnourished children would have food. All that was required was for the hospital to sign a contract with UNICEF at the beginning of December to make the distribution permanent. “When I came back in December, I found out that there had been no food in the hospital since the beginning of December, so that was heartbreaking — $150,000-$200,000 a year free food, just by signing the contracts. I was so disappointed.”
Marianne says she’s not sure why it was allowed to happen, but she doggedly straightened things out. “It all got resolved and the food is there now. A permanent contract has been signed.”
