So, we’re 4 days into the chaos. It’s Saturday night and we’ve spent most of Saturday, as a family, either answering the phone, out getting supplies for Cheryl to take or talking to doctors or other medical professionals who were bringing medical supplies for her to take down. One of our daughters came home from college for the day to help us figure out and prioritize what she takes with her.

My phone had been ringing all day and I finally said, “I’m not going to answer it for the next 15 minutes and spend some time with my two youngest while I tucked them in bed.” Yeah, right.

Shortly after I said that, the phone rang, I looked at the number and sent it to voice mail. Then it rang again, the same number. Then I looked again and realized that it was too many digits to be a phone number in the United States. I still sent it to voice mail. Four more times while I tucked my kids in bed.

As I stepped out of the last kid’s bedroom, it rang again – from the same number.

“Hello!” A lady said from the other side of the phone. It was obvious from her accent that she wasn’t from the Midwestern part of the United States.

We got to talking and it turned out that she had just gotten done watching Larry King Live on CNN and saw Dixie’s interview with Larry. In that interview, Dixie told Larry that we had, at that point about a day and a half worth of water left and we didn’t know where or how we were going to get more.

“I can get you water! I live in Jamaica but I have a friend in Haiti. He runs a water truck business and he will get you water. Just tell me how to get there.”

Wow, God, you can even use Larry King to provide water for kids at GLA.

But then a thought hit me – I don’t know how to get there! I mean yeah, I know, take this road and then when you get here, turn that way, but none of the roads had very good signs on them before the earthquake so I didn’t know the names of the roads.

My daughter that came home from college, she’s the one who spent 6 weeks there the previous summer. “Hey Kristin, give this lady directions on how to get to GLA.”

They talked, she told Kristin where the water truck would be coming from. They got it to a point where Kristin told her, “After turning on to this street, tell your driver to roll down the window and ask someone where “madam John’s house” is.”

She got off the phone and we all looked at each other and wondered if this was for real. We said, well, only time will tell and got back to returning phone calls and packing suitcases with medical supplies.

Sunday morning, I’m sitting in church and my phone buzzed. Normally it’s on silent when in church but I figured that this week, with my wife flying and everything else going on, it was okay. I glanced at the phone and saw the text message that came from one of our people in Haiti.

Two simple words that restored my faith in the goodness of man kind……

“Water’s here.”

Whoever you are, you will forever be known in my heart as the Jamaican Water Truck Lady and I’m grateful for what you did and how you moved to help in a time of dire need.