When it comes time to weed the corn, I go quietly into the field.
I get down into the dirt until it's up under my nails. Then from nowhere I look down a row and see a little girl. She's looking at me with a big smile, her hands already full of weeds. Soon the kids and even some adults are coming from all over the villlage. The colors of our skin blur as we mix the same sweat into the soil. They join with me in the labor. The Haitian proverb becomes a living illustration as "many hands make light work." They work hard without question, the work is finished, and I see such a harvest in tomorrow...