Lost Boys

Kenzy drove me to a town near by called Ti Goave, yesterday. We needed to pick up some groceries at the market. When we were leaving he stopped the motorcycle at the edge of town. I started to ask him what he was doing, but I stopped when I heard people across the street yelling his name. When I turned around all I could see was arms waving out of a tiny barred window. It was a prison. I asked Kenzy how all these inmates knew his name. He said, "When you were in America I used the money you sent me to buy them food." Then he asked if we could buy them some food now. I said, "How could we possibly feed all of them?" From looking at that one small window I imagined that the prison was huge, but I was mistaken. When I agreed to walk inside I saw that the prison consisted of only two cells. A women's and a men's cell. It was an average size cell. It was probably made to hold 4 people. I counted 27 people inside. Thats why the prison seemed so large from the looks of the window. It was way overcrowded. However, that really didn't surprise me much. I mean I kind of expected that out of a third world country, but what did surprise me was the age of the inmates. They were boys. Most were teenagers, no more then 15 years old. They crowded around their jail cell looking over at me at me with curious eyes. The curious eyes of a child.
I asked,"When do they get fed?"
"Never,"answered Kenzy
"When are they given water?"
"Never"

The only way they can survive is by family members bringing them food. Family members who are, no doubt, struggling to feed themselves.
I asked, "What have they done?"
"They stole"
"Because they were hungry?"
"Exactly"
"How long will they be here?"
"Haha. A long time."

You can imagine what this conversation felt like as I was staring into the eyes of these "lost boys".
I woke up in the middle of the night thinking of those eyes, and again this morning.

What will I do now? Now that God has opened my eyes and broken my heart.......