Darline’s Story: A Testimony of Grace and Suffering

I want to tell Darline’s story now. I was in Fon Parisien, doing work there—among the poorest of the poor. After we had completed medical clinics for 10 to 12 hours each day, we returned to our hotel in Jimaní, Dominican Republic.

One day, I was asked to see a 15-year-old girl named Darline, who was suffering terribly from osteogenic sarcoma in her right knee. The knee was hot, tender, and visibly painful, causing her a great deal of distress. Since she was already in the Dominican Republic, I arranged for an orthopedic surgeon in Santo Domingo to perform an above-knee amputation and begin chemotherapy. Darline underwent the amputation. Afterward, one of my friends, Lesly Pinard, picked her up from the hospital.

The hospital refused to incinerate the amputated leg because Darline was Haitian. They specifically stated they would not incinerate a Haitian person’s body parts. Lesly called me from his car in Santo Domingo and asked what he should do. His first instinct was to throw the amputated leg into a river. I told him that would be unwise, as it could lead to murder investigations or other serious consequences. I instructed him to find the nearest cemetery, and I offered to pay for a grave plot to bury her amputated leg. He did exactly that. I also asked him to find out what chemotherapy options were available for treating her obviously advanced osteogenic sarcoma. We were able to arrange for her to begin chemotherapy within four weeks. Lesly personally transported the chemotherapy from Santo Domingo to Fon Parisien, Haiti.

At first, it looked like the treatment was working. About a month later, I was back in Santo Domingo with plans to conduct medical clinics along the Dominican-Haitian frontier. People would often ask me why I chose to do medical work in the Third World. I always said I love to hunt and fish. But my kind of hunting and fishing meant finding the sickest child or person in the poorest parts of the world—and either bringing them to East Tennessee or trying to cure them where they were. There is no greater joy than seeing a blue, breathless, dying child recover and run, not grow weary. For months, Darline continued receiving chemotherapy.

The next time I returned to the Dominican Republic, we picked her up from the clinic where she was being treated and brought her to our hotel. She was extremely cachectic and wasted, but still had a beautiful smile.

I often brought small gold crosses to give to patients, both in the U.S. and in the Third World. Lesly, who is trilingual—speaking English, Creole, Spanish, and some French—called me over because Darline wanted to talk to me. She spoke only Creole. I asked how she was doing. She said she was weak, but improving. We prayed together—Lesly, Darline, and me. After the prayer, I placed a gold cross on her dress. She kissed me on the cheek, and I felt the soft, pillow-like kiss of someone whose body was failing, yet whose soul was radiant. It inspired me deeply. The next day, we brought her and our team to the border region between the Dominican Republic and Haiti. That night, Darline became critically ill. I feared she was dying. My son Luke and I rushed to the border to beg the guards to let us cross into Haiti.

It was a terrible time in Haiti. The guards told me we could not cross—tires were burning, there were riots, and people were being shot at the border. I pleaded with the guards, but they continued to say no. Luke turned to me and said, “Dad, take off your sunglasses so they can see the concern in your eyes.” I did that, but it didn’t help. We returned to Jimaní. This was meant to be a father-son trip, and now the men and their sons gathered around Darline’s impoverished hotel bed. We read the book of Revelation aloud to her, with Lesly translating. As we finished reading “‘Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away’”, Darlene died in our arms.

Her mother was present but had not wanted to be in the room when she passed. Darline had accepted Jesus Christ as her Savior, but her mother practiced voodoo.

After she died, we searched the area for a casket and eventually found one. We had no papers—no documents for Darline. But we didn’t leave her. We took her body to the graveyard and asked a local Haitian peasant to dig the grave. He agreed but told us he would need a bottle of vodka and some candles to do the work. He said that if Darline had been returned to Haiti, her body would likely have been used in voodoo worship—especially since she was young and had once been beautiful. As we buried her and stood at the graveside, my dear friend Chuck Copeland said that the sound of the stones being thrown onto the wooden casket reminded him of when Jesus was crucified and His hands and feet were pierced—pounded by the tools of human cruelty. I felt the same way.

While we were finishing, a Dominican detective arrived and asked what we were doing. He had a gun, though he didn’t raise it. We explained the situation. He seemed skeptical, but he allowed us to finish the burial and leave. He did not ask for names or a cause of death.

As we left Jimaní, there was a profound sadness among all the men and their sons. Luke and I rode back with Lesly. As Lesly drove, he saw two young girls walking along the roadside in the evening light. He recognized them and asked if they needed a ride. They accepted and got in the back seat with Luke. Luke was extremely quiet. The girls asked him, “Why are you so quiet?” He replied, “I’m just tired.” Then they said, “Just rest in the arms of Jesus,” and began singing a beautiful song about Jesus’ suffering, death, and resurrection. It was profoundly moving, and I was completely certain that God had sent two angels to remind us of His truth, His love, and His presence in suffering.

1Corinthians 1:27-28 says “‘Isn’t it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses, chose these “nobodies” to expose the hollow pretensions of the “somebodies”’”?

The Bible puts it so clearly that God looks upon the overlooked and suffering people of the world in a vastly different way than the “somebodies” do. The story of Darline’s brave suffering inspired many to dedicate their time, talent, and treasure to helping the poorest of the poor. Darline’s unembellished photo by itself moved donors to give millions of dollars to help other poor and suffering people in the region. 

Trip Gallery