PORT-AU-PRINCE, HAITI — The Haitian earthquake destroyed the nation’s capital but not its people’s spirits.

I saw the tons of concrete rubble and twisted metal that were the country’s equivalent of the White House, Pentagon and Treasury on Sunday. On the same day, I heard about 100 voices joining in a beautiful chorus, singing songs of thanksgiving in their native Kreyol.

Pastor Dirk Small, whose Otterbein Church in Waynesboro, Penn., partners with the congregation we visited, told the faithful their ability to count their blessings amid all that has happened to them the past couple of weeks is incredible.

When invited to come to the altar and speak to the Port-au-Prince parishioners, I had little else to say than to echo Dirk’s thoughts.

I felt rather silly to be telling them anything. Any one of the smiling faces I saw could certainly teach me a lot more about being grateful for what I have than I could ever impart to them.

To have been in Port-au-Prince at all is one blessing I must count. I know most people who have heard it is better to donate money than venture to the disaster zone have obeyed. Nevertheless, I imagine many would rather donate sweat, a strong back or able hands, if at all possible.

My wife, Vanessa, and I felt frustratingly useless in the days immediately after the quake. Teaching English in a small Christian school in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, a six-hour drive over the mountains of central Hispaniola from Port-au-Prince, we were close enough to feel the initial quake. However, lacking medical expertise or connections across the border, we waited and watched news reports while we kept Haiti in our thoughts and prayers.

We had been working to line up short-term mission groups from the United States for Pastor Fidel Lorenzo, who oversees Operation Christmas Child in the Dominican Republic. Dirk and a dozen people from Otterbein were the first group to come down and distribute shoeboxes full of gifts for needy children in and around Santo Domingo.

About midweek, contacts in Haiti were able to reach Dirk with a crackling cell-phone message where only one thing became clear: People needed food and water, and they needed it as quickly as possible.

Fidel had resources available to him, but no one he knew and could trust in Haiti. Dirk had Pastor Martinez Jovin, who oversees a church and several orphanages in southern Haiti, plus a network to raise money quickly.

Vanessa and I sent e-mails and posted on Facebook to encourage our friends and family to donate as well. In less than 48 hours, $25,000 was raised and more than 33,000 pounds of food and water were purchased.

We asked to come on the delivery run, but only if we could be useful and not in anyone’s way. Knowing some Spanish helped, as coordinating dozens of people in three languages could be difficult at times.

In the end, our physical contribution consisted of little more than helping unload one of the two truckloads alongside Haitian men (who were impressed by Vanessa’s strength). Children sleeping in front of the school where we unloaded the goods greeted us with smiles. Many people crowded around to watch or assist with the unloading, but no one fought or tried to take any items. A lot of volunteers I spoke with during our two days in Port-au-Prince lamented media coverage they felt is blowing isolated incidents of such behavior out of proportion.

On the surface, Haiti’s future looks dim. News commentaries speak of an opportunity to rebuild the long-troubled country better than before. That will take years, but I am encouraged after meeting people such as 23-year-old Schneider Dorcela. He helped his mother raise eight younger siblings, delivering three of them. He aspires to become an obstetrician, and has been accepted to two East Coast universities. However, the income he makes from running an Internet café near the international airport is enough to sustain the family but not to cover college costs.

Like a lot of the people living around him in one of several makeshift tent cities spread across Port-au-Prince, he waits, smiles and hopes for a better future.