Today is the sixth anniversary of a horrific earthquake that happened in Haiti. At the time of the quake, I was working as a local reporter and I had grown up in the area and was still in touch with many who graduated high school with me. One such family had a daughter that was on a mission trip in Haiti when the quake struck, and I was the reporter on duty when the news came in. I was sent to to cover the story and watch the horror unfold. One of my least favorite parts of my job – in fact I’ll go so far as to see the WORST part of the job – is to be in the presence of others on the worst day of their lives. This story was one of those times two. On my initial contact, there was great hoopla. The family – who was well connected – had been informed that it appeared their daughter was alive, and they were making rapid arrangements to head towards Florida where survivors were expected to return. At this point, we had no idea it would be days before anyone could hope to get out of Haiti.

What I remember most about these moments is how quiet the mother of the couple was – she and I had gone to high school together and although never close friends, I felt I knew her fairly well. Something was off. It was then that she noted to anyone in earshot that her daughter wasn’t wearing the right fingernail polish. The girl they were calling hers was wearing the wrong color. Such a mom thing to notice that, but I heard the underlying fear. Fear, it turns out, that was well founded. Her daughter was not the one on the stretcher and was still missing. Can you even begin to imagine losing your child twice in such a short time? From horror to elation and back again is a cruel twist of fate. One no parent should ever endure. Such began the journey to Haiti in search of their daughter – an event that would take countless phone calls, connections, nearly a month and the right people. In the end, they found her and brought her home, but that, my friends, is not the end of the story. In fact, in many ways, it is the beginning.

Out of this tragedy, the family went forth and made a difference. The last message their daughter texted made note of the fact that she wanted to move to Haiti and open an orphanage. This became a mission statement from beyond the grave to her heartbroken mom, dad and brothers. Six years ago on this day, the life that they had all known and loved ended, but 66 kids along with countless others – were about to experience a new beginning. A beginning brought about with love, dedication and more miracles than I can even begin to recount. When I think of the word legacy – I think of this family. I think of what they went through (I covered their story in the early days and saw so much of their pain), and I think of all of the things a parent can do –  this is the greatest gift. For me, I am not convinced I would ever rise from my bed again. For them, movement forward in purpose brought some healing. For the next  three years they trekked back and forth to Haiti in less than ideal conditions for the sole purpose of creating an orphanage in their daughter’s memory. Today this amazing place houses 66 children. They have introduced fresh water, indoor plumbing and education to these young lives and they have expanded their reach to the families outside of their gates by building homes for their employees and many others. They have brought hope to many that never knew the definition of the word. They have taught me the true meaning of love.

Today, hug your children a teeny bit tighter, and ask yourself this. What would I do if I was presented with the worst day of my life x 2? Would you go forth and make a difference? Would you stop living? What, in the face of such unimaginable pain, would make you move forward? For this family, a purpose from their daughter sent them forward to a legacy. They took up the call and they walked forth in love. A grand purpose, indeed. Please visit www.belikebrit.org to learn more and find out how you can help .