My favorite image from Haiti is not of death or destruction but of hope. Children gathered around me in the camp, asking to see photos of my own kids. They were bored and this was a bit of entertainment, a respite for a few brief moments.
Leaving Haiti was nothing less than surreal. On Wednesday I boarded a helicopter at what's left of the Dominican embassy in Port-au-Prince. And within an hour and a half I was safely on the ground in Santo Domingo.
It was deeply unsettling to be leaving all that devastation behind.
The first thing my son asked me when I returned home was: "Mommy, how many people did you help?"
I told him that I hoped by telling their stories we've helped a lot. And I hope that -- as our lives move on in the U.S. -- we don't forget about Haiti. They have a long road ahead.