Saturday, June 29, 2013


Ignoring the flashing arm next to me,
this is a pretty decent photo.
We attended a fundraising gala for Orphan Helpers last night.
One year ago, yesterday, we had come home from Honduras.
Tim stayed if you remember, but two of my daughters and my son,
were able to go.

Yes, there are poor here, in the States.  Yes, we need to help them--
not by giving them a hand out, but a hand up--allowing them to rise up
out of their troubles, gain skills, confidence, etc.
Yes, there are orphans here.  In the USA.  Children abandoned and abused.
Our system does have juvenile detention and various "safety nets" for younger ones. Honduras does not.
Yet we all seem to have stories of children being abused domestically and sexually.
Some of us ARE those children, now bruised adults.

I am not certain of what it is, but being in a country where you see orphans
and know you cannot take them home, or even know what will happen to them
when they can leave--it wounds your heart. Permanently.

  Children are children whether
they reside in El Salvador or Michigan.

I am grateful to be able to have gone and witness the poverty, the ache, the often vacant brown eyes,
shy smiles, feel their tiny arms hug me, smell their hair when they sat on my lap, listen to baby's coos and
love them simply and with all I had.

Last night, while watching one of the young men from Honduras share, all those moments came
back to my heart.  I was not able to give hundreds of dollars, but those children have my heart.
my prayers and my voice for them, here.

You are faithful,

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