His eye is on the Sparrow

         I love this photo of Riley because all you can see is his eyes. They are what make Riley the resident charmer in our Hyderabad home. He raises and lowers his eyebrows when he wants something. He furrows his brow when he is trying to figure out how to get into the food of his brothers and sisters.
     They say that eyes are the windows to the soul. If this is true then Riley's eyes tell of a deep wisdom, trust and hope that is alive in him. They show no fear, only peace. Almost as if at 11 months old he has figured out what it takes most of us a lifetime to understand. When we have our complete and total trust in the One who holds us there is no place for fear, or sadness or any doubt that His plans are good and perfect.
     I have wanted to write about blog about Riley for awhile because he has a story of miracles. Riley has overcome so much in a short time. Riley was born with a congenital heart abnormality. Before coming to SCH some wonderful friends sponsored Riley to have an emergency Glenn Shunt placement which saved his life. While recovering from the surgery he contracted the chicken pox! Despite all of this today he is recovering remarkably well. He is able to maintain a healthy oxygen level and is very alert, curious almost one year old.
     With the surgery behind him we started to work on physical therapy. At nearly a year old Riley was not able to sit up on his own. In this process we started to realize some other developmental milestones that had not been met. When held, Riley is very "floppy". When picked up he has absolutely no trunk support and does not wrap his legs and arms around you. SCH sent him to a neurologist and after several tests our worst fears were confirmed. Riley has been diagnosed with Spinal Muscular Atrophy Type I.
     SMA is a genetic disorder that affects spinal motor neurons which coordinate things like sitting, eating and breathing. This sweet charming baby boy will over the next year loose his ability to sit with the help of pillows, feed himself, wiggle his eyebrows and maintain his oxygen level.  I have wanted to write Riley's story for awhile but not like this. Not with this ending.
     Having a child diagnosed with a progressive neurological disease is every parent's worst nightmare. It is one of those situations that tempts us to question God's plans. How can this little boy who has already beat the odds in so many ways by the age of one, not be able to live a long life? We all want fair and this certainly isn't fair. It can cause us to be angry because there is no way God's plan for Riley is "good". A good God wouldn't abandon His children to such a disease.
     But I am praying that those of us here at SCH and those of you who love Riley from all around the world (bless you) will choose to accept and move forward with this news by watching our little boy. I pray that we will praise God that he saw fit for us to be blessed with Riley even for a small amount of time. May we whole heartily be able to give Riley back to God saying "thy will be done, Lord". I pray come to know with an unwavering faith that God is all knowing and all powerful. That we come to believe Riley was created for "such a time as this". For God does not make mistakes and he does not abandon His children. I pray that we reflect the complete peace and trust in Christ that shines in Riley's eyes.
     As a Christian I have seen God work miracles and I know for certain he could heal Riley totally and completely. As nurse I tend to be more of a realist and the facts show that Riley is going to need good medical care over this next year. Here at SCH we strive to love and treat each child as if they were our own. Riley is a child of The King, he is loved and valued and we are going to do everything possible to give him the quality of life every child deserves for as long as he is ours. We have started to notice some decline in him already and have made the decision to have a feeding tube placed to avoid having any problems with aspiration and to keep him well nourished. The hospitalization and surgery total cost comes to about $1500 USD. Will you join us in fighting for life for Riley? You can do so here: http://www.schindia.com/Special-Projects/urgent-surgery-fund/

~Pray for wisdom for Riley's caretakers. The decisions that will need to be made for Riley over the next year carry a heavy weight.
~Pray for Riley's upcoming surgery. May it be quick, painless with an uncomplicated recovery.
~Pray for Riley that over this next year he will know no pain, no fear but only total complete peace and love.
~Pray for those of us who have held and cared for Riley that we won't question why but simply praise God for this life we have been blessed to know.

Where He leads me I will follow

Some of you may remember, when a few months ago I asked you to pray for me as I had a decision to make about a job change (of sorts) here in India. The decision was between staying in Ongole and moving 8 hours away to Hyderabad to work at SCH's newest home for critically ill children that come from the government orphanage. After lots of prayer and weighing the pros and cons I told Sarah that I would like to join her in opening the new home. As long as my conditions were met. At that point we didn't have a license or a house and this is India so I didn't expect anything to happen anytime soon.
Fast forward to a month ago. My boss asked me to come to Hyderabad to care for our now four new babies for the week before my visa trip. I balked. None of my conditions were even close to being met. We didn't have a house. And we had less then ideal nursing staff for our children here in Ongole. In that scenario two nurses for four babies seemed a bit excessive. But in the end I didn't have a choice as one of our little boys here needed the attention of doctors in the big city. During the long tedious drive I stewed with a bad attitude full of worry. Who will take so and so to the doctor? Will all the medications be given? I wanted so badly to hand this little boy over to the care of my colleague and head back home. Then when I arrived to the place where the babies are staying I was struck with the thought of "What in the world did I say yes to?" These are by far the sickest most malnourished children I had ever seen. I have no paediatric hospital experience that these kids need. Let alone I was afraid of touching them because I was afraid I might hurt them. It was more like fear at first sight then love.
It took a few days but God showed me that saying yes to His will is never a mistake. After spending hours in hospitals and doctor's offices with these kids I felt the confidence and joy returning to the way I nurse, something that had been missing. I love the hospital environment I am comfortable there and these kids require lots of doctors and hospital visits. (They truly do need a 1:2 ratio. I am sorry I ever doubted you akka.) I got to go to an English speaking church for the first time in six months and there was a quenching of my spiritual thirst that was desperately needed. And in about 2 days I fell in love with these children who are truly the "least of these."
The other day one the ayahs here said to me, "Amma, you truly believe in these children". And I realized that's why God is sending me to Hyderabad. Because those babies have had no advocate in their entire life. And now they have SCH and God has equipped with my hospital experience and in the time I have spent here in Ongole to give them the fighting chance they deserve. It won't be easy. I am leaving most of my foreign sister family here and working at new branch of this organization with new people from almost scratch  I have had to lay my pride, my Ongole children, and my conditions at the feet of Jesus. He had been taking care of His children long before I came on the scene and has not needed an once of my help in doing so. He has put wonderful staff and house parents in Ongole that do an amazing job caring for these children. And He gave me this quote...

"God never said life would be easy. The purpose in living isn't about our personal happiness...it's about serving God. When it comes to our relationship with the Creator, we should always...always have our yes on the table. If God asks us to do something, we do it . Our yes is a given." (Leaving  Karen Kingsbury)

So I am starting a new year with a new adventure and I am so excited. The Lord has provided a wonderful house and amazing new staff. The babies (there are now 7 and growing) have stolen my heart and I cannot wait to love on them and see them flourish. So without further adieu let me introduce you to our new children...Ivy, Zahra, Rosemary, Riley, Kenneth, Alicia, and Dahlia

 



Chaos, Curry, and Children

Before visiting India I had many preconceived notions based on books, pictures, and stories from others.  But India cannot be captured by words or pictures, it must be experienced.  I cannot adequately describe here the sights, sounds, scents or tastes of India on our recent visit to our daughter who is serving as a nurse at Sarah’s Covenant Homes (SCH) an orphanage for over 100 special needs children.  But there are a few experiences worth sharing.

The sights and sounds of India include:  lots of people, cattle in the street, and women in beautiful saris and kurtas, as well as the crazy chaos of all kinds of vehicles in the streets (I cannot believe I would ever drive there) constantly honking their horns.  The smells and tastes include burning incense, as well as wonderful foods (Dal, Naan, Biryani) spiced with curry (and lots of other spices which can be overpowering if you do not tell your waiter to keep it to “medium spice”). 

 Like everything else in India SCH cannot be described but must be experienced.  The “ayas” (house mothers) and nurses provide a home in each of the apartments for a family of 8-9 children.  The “volunteers” (several young women including my daughter) have come to sacrifice 6 months or a year to live with, give love, and care for these children, “wanting” those who were “unwanted” and “touching” those who were “untouchable” being the hands and feet of the Savior.  Receiving the satisfaction of following Him.  Of course, the children cannot be explained, but meeting them was a great experience.    They were warm, friendly, inquisitive, each a unique personality.  I will always think about Aaron a young boy of 10 years old who has cerebral palsy who does not talk but was not shy and wanted to play with my backpack and even to be held.  I am saddened to think that he has no constant male figures in his life.  Despite the shortcomings of living in the orphanage  all of the children appear to be thriving on the love and care given to them and they love in return.  At each apartment they warmly welcomed us. 

I am still pondering our visit to India, the sacrifice of my daughter and the other volunteers, as well as the experiences with the children, and expect that there will be significant impact to my view of life in the future.  

We came to India

We came to India.  Our friend, Tim, an experienced traveler, said “The thing about India is that it is so ‘in your face’”.  That proved to be our experience as well.  The smells (spices, incense, and opened sewage), the traffic, the poverty ( 60% of the people live below poverty level, 20% unemployment rate), the ancient history, and the sites of random cows, dogs, garbage everywhere.  It would be easy for an American girl to get overwhelmed.  I was, indeed overwhelmed.  So much so, that I almost missed the important stuff.

Maybe you have heard of the “Starfish Story.”  It goes something like, a man was walking on the beach after a storm had passed in the area.  There were hundreds of star fish washed ashore on the beach.  He noticed a little boy picking up  one at a time and throwing it back into the sea.  The man approached the boy and said, “Why bother doing this?  There are too many star fish.  What difference will it make?”  The boy responds, as he throws back another star fish into the sea, “It makes a difference to that one.”

I looked at the work of SCH and ….all of India (there are over 1 billion people) and thought “this is too big, what difference will it make?”  But I saw children that were once malnourished, positively plump!  I saw children learning to walk for the first time at 4 and 5 years of age.  I saw children who have received life altering surgery for a birth defect.  I saw my daughter totally loving and engaging with each of the 106 children, and she knows them by name.  These were the important sights to see in India.

It reminds me of the verse in 1Thess 1:11-12,  “..That by his power he may fulfill every good purpose of yours and every act prompted by your faith.  We pray this so that the name of our Lord Jesus Christ may be glorified in you, and you in him..”  I am glad I got to see the good work at SCH and Anna’s participation in that.  I will cherish it always.  Keep on helping those “star fish” that come your way, it makes a difference to them, and to God.

* Anna here! Incidentally one of my foreign sisters and housemothers here at SCH writes a blog called "One Tiny Starfish". She is an excellent writer and mama check it out here: http://onetinystarfish.blogspot.com/ 

Signature of the Divine

     There is something about this wide eyed little Indian boy dressed in an aqua marine (a little specific I know but Indian kids look awesome in this color!) polo shirt with Alfalfa hair (I gave him his first hair cut today...) that makes me go weak at the knees at the sight of all the cuteness.
      There is also something about this photo that makes me want to weep. K is 11 months old and weights 3.8 kg. (8.5 lbs. for you Americans). He has spastic cerebral palsy, severe epilepsy (seizures) and is severely malnourished. To the point that when I pick him up I am afraid I am going to break him. He came to us after spending two months in the hospital for septic shock. I have spent the past two days visiting doctors who have all come to the same conclusion; by all medical accounts this baby boy should not be alive. But God gave K a spirit of a fighter and together they have battled against all the odds.
     I have seen enough "nevers" happen in the past 6 months to know better then to say that K will "never walk" or "never talk". But even if he never does those things God created K for a distinct and divine purpose. For starters he is proving to those around him that there is a God who still performs miracles. Baby K exist on this earth for the same reason you and I do, to bring praise and glory to the Almighty God. And if you ever get the chance to see this little dude smile and laugh you will see we have a lot to learn from this little warrior.

~Pray for baby K. He has a long way to go to becoming well nourished and healthy.
~Pray for his caregivers (doctors, nurses, ayahs etc.) that will be given wisdom in how to care for this sick little boy.
~Pray that we find the perfect house soon for K and his brothers and sisters to move into.

Adventure is out There

Journey....it is a word that implies movement, action, adventure. It is a word that is in the subtitle of this blog for a reason. Following in Christ's footsteps is not a simple trip but a journey. It allures to something new, to growth. It was a word that I had forgotten.

I am coming up on 6 months of living and serving in India. To say the least it has been the craziest, hardest, most fun adventure I could ever imagine. But over the past couple of months I had become so bogged down with living life in rural India and with caring for 108 children with less then idea numbers of staff that I forgot that I was on an adventure. When I finally remembered to stop looking at my feet when I walked and instead starting watching the events going on around me I remembered how much I love India; the sights, the smells, the people. When I finally remembered to stop and enjoy the dance party with my big sisters I realize how deeply I have fallen in love with my children. When I finally remembered that I didn't come work here to be comfortable I packed up my things, said a really hard goodbye to my kids and followed God's leading to the big city.

This past week at my home church was missions week. It is one week out of the year where missionaries from around the world come and speak. Growing up it was one of my most favourite weeks out of the year. But this year I finally really appreciated the missionaries who came, and I wasn't even there. Denying yourself and following Christ on an adventure can be total mind blowing awesomeness and it can be devastatingly discouraging. There are days when you say, "I am living in India!!" and days when you say "Why can't India be like America?" And I have come to realize that that's ok. But when I get stuck there looking at me and what I want, I loose the excitement of an adventure with Christ. I stop moving. I stop journeying. I stop growing.

 

"Daughter, there is still more to this adventure. I have more of this story to write but you have to look up. Look outward from yourself. Find me in the day to day. Love where you are and what you are doing because in doing it you are loving me."

This field was ploughed by ox one day and planted by hand the next. Welcome to rural India!

 

 

 

 

~Pray for me and my friend as we travel to Thailand this week. Pray for safety and that we will come back to the kids refreshed and renewed.

~Pray for my parents as they travel to and in India for two weeks. Pray for health, safety and peace :-)

~Pray that God would bring good Godly nurses to SCH

~Pray for our new children who are very weak. Pray for their health and protection.

~Pray for wisdom for me as I decide to relocate to Hyderabad when I come back from Thailand to care for critically ill children in our new home.



The tale of adoption and chicken curry

"Sister?"
"Yes, sister?"
"Will my American mother make me chicken curry?"

 Adoption is a bit of a buzzword around here. India is one of the hardest countries in the world to adopt from. The lack of organization and corruption in the Indian government makes the adoption process tedious and long. But by the grace of God two of our children are thisclose to being with their forever families.
Unlike some I feel like I have know what adoption is all my life. My mom and my sister have both worked as social workers for an adoption agency. I have several friends that were adopted and several friends that have adopted. I have heard time and time again about how earthy adoption is a beautiful picture of how God loves his children. How He chose us to be in His family. But living with orphans in a third world country has made that vision come to life. Having lived my entire life as in entitled American child and living six months with 108 orphans, the dichotomy in our childhoods could not be more obvious to me. As I sat on the steps having a heart to heart conversation with one of our school girls about her American family I was suddenly struck with the thought, "This girl has no idea what she is in for."
Neither of these two children have ever met their new families. Yet I have seen the evidence that despite this fact they are already loved well. As she sits and tells me about having her own room I realize she has no concept of what that even means. Even in all the blessings our children receive in being a part of SCH they have almost nothing that is "theirs alone". No sharing with 8 other sisters. The fact that she has grown up in rural India where the concept of grocery stores, libraries, malls and movies theatres are things that she has no basis to begin to understand.This girlie is about to have her socks knocked off.
I am the daughter of a Daddy whom I have never met face to face but daily He gives me evidence that He loves me. Sometimes, I get so bogged down with worries that are no bigger then trying to figure out if I am going to have chicken curry for dinner. He whispers to my soul saying, "I have prepared a mansion for you child. The streets are paved with gold. I am there in my full glory." I have done absolutely nothing to be called a child of God and he has made me a princess. I am going to have my socks knocked off when I get to heaven.
And just like when I lose a brother or sister to their heavenly forever home, the day when one of our children goes to home with their forever family, it will be bittersweet. There will be tears out of selfishness and jealousy because those of us here won't get to see their smiley faces every day or feel the warmth of their hugs. But there will be a huge massive celebration because our brothers and sisters are finally home. Forever.

Dear Chilie,
I love that every time I come to visit you have written a new story for me to read. Yesterday, when we read together I realized that you have an amazing story lady. For you have been chosen not once but twice. I pray that you learn to yell it from the rooftops and that when people hear you they will come to know your Daddy. May you come to know and believe that you are a princess, the daughter of The King. My heart is bursting for this new life adventure you are about to embark on. I praise God for the wonderful forever family that has found you. I love you sweet sister and I will be waiting to read your book.

*Chilie is Telugu for little sister.

India Life Q&A

Biggest differences in nursing in America vs. nursing in India?
Autonomy. In a hospital setting in the States I have a pretty wide range of what I can do without calling a doctor. While there is definitely a hierarchy in terms of doctors and nurses in American medicine, here it is much more pronounced. Part of the reason is cultural and in part do to education. Indian culture is steeped in hierarchy from the caste system, to families and the workplace. Doctors have more education and therefore are on top of the totem pole even fresh out of med school. Most of the nursing education is book learning and then when you graduate you get the practical experience. Comparatively there is very little clinical time during nursing school.  In America I as a nurse have a lot more ability to question and make suggestions to doctors. Doctors and nurses are view almost like partners (at least from the nurses perspective!) working for the good of the patient. Here I find that questioning is viewed as a sort of insubordination. Not that nurses don't advocate for their patients here just maybe not as intensely as in America. Needless to say I have surprised more then one doctor with my approach to nursing.... There are pros and cons to both medical systems and I would like to write a blog on my medical experience here in India someday, but probably only the nurses would care :-)

How is your skin and hair color perceived there?
I live in a very rural area of India and there are villages around us that have maybe seen five white people in their lives. Needless to say, being white and blond is a novelty.. Fair skin is considered beautiful because it means you have never had to work in the fields for your food. We are stared at all the time. I mean ALL the time. Sometimes being white gains you extra "privileges" but at the same time it can be very hindering to living a normal life or ministry. I once took one of our little girls to church in our neighbourhood and I had to leave because all the local children where standing at the door saying "Hi, America"! People can be suspicious of you and your motives when you are white. And it is widely understood that white= wealth so we are constantly charged higher prices or being asked for money. Another downside is that we look so different we sometimes make village children cry at the sight of us....:-(

 What do you like to eat? Not like to eat?   
I generally really like south Indian food spiciness and all. Uttma, idly, dosa, chapatti, samosas, parota are some of my favourite foods for meals. Only breakfast foods are free from the required rice. Pulihora (translated it means "tiger rice") or lemon rice is my favourite rice dish. There are thousands of curries/sandbar/chutney combinations and I don't really have a favourite one. As long as I can eat more then one bite without tears welling up and snot running from the spiciness I am good! Street food is a huge thing here. People set up stalls on the street with a little propane tank and a cooking surface. You can get anything from sweets to a full meal usually for less then $1 and sometimes it is much better then a sit down restaurant! And of course how could I forget chai!!! American chai is absolutely nothing like Indian chai. Probably because American chai has about 1/6 the sugar! There are two designated tea times in my home 7am and late afternoon. Although I tend to skip the afternoon one because chai has more caffeine then coffee....
I have had a really hard time with meat in India. It is hard to come from a home where meat is served at least once a day to a place where it might be served three times a week. Because of the Hindu traditions of vegetarianism that are deeply ingrained in the culture meat is a rare occurrence, even for Christians. The butchers in the towns tend to be Muslim men. Here in my house the kids get hard boiled eggs for every dinner. The cooks also prepare chicken, beef (here we call it mutton, but it's not lamb) and fish (fresh, because we are 45 min from the ocean). For me the meat tends to be greasy and is always cooked with the bones attached (even the fish). I have had a hard time eating it. Needless to say a good cheeseburger is high on my list of foods to eat when I get home... (also sadly, cheese as we know it, doesn't exist either.)

What American food, etc do you miss?
I could write an extremely long list of things I miss from home. I don't dwell on them and I think it's probably natural to miss home. On the flip side there is an equally long list of things I love about my life in India and for right now that list is out weighing the "miss list".


How's your Hindi? 
Actually in Andrha Pradesh ,the providence I live in, Hindi is not widely spoken. Telugu is the regional language. While it is spoken by millions of people, it is only geographically spoken in this providence.  My language skills are very poor. I understand more then I speak. I can get my point across around town and to the ayahs and can generally understand what is being spoken to me.  Hoping to be starting a Telugu class with my fellow volunteers soon! The nurses I work with speak anywhere from passable English to fluent. The doctors in the hospitals are generally fluent in English as well.
I was told once by a stranger here in Ongole that I couldn't possibly be very good at working with the kids if I didn't speak their language. While I know enough of the language to punish and praise our children, I also know that hugs, kisses, smiles and time outs are the same in any language :-) Our school kids learn English in school and some have almost mastered it.

How much of your work is medical vs mothering? 
Gosh, I don't even know how to separate the two anymore! Because my job generally includes not fun things like medicine, needles and hospital visits I have tried really hard to make sure that the kids do not only associate me with only those things. I try to play, eat, and do daily life with the kids as much as possible so they remember me that way. It also helps me gain a baseline medically for these kids and helps me know how to treat them better. Right now I administer daily medication to 12 children in the morning and evening. The rest of the day is spent ensuring the other homes have medications they need and kids are going to the doctor if need be. No matter what I am doing there are always kids and young adults  so "mothering" is part of the job description. Since I am not a house mother who lives with the kids 24/7 I prefer the title of aunt :-) Raising children, especially when you have 111 (yup, we got some new ones!), is a communal feat in India. It takes a village, right?

And, how have you been blessed personally so far?
The list is long. God has given me a chance to fall head over heels in love with his special children. I never expected that to happen. I live in a community of white women who challenge me to think differently and love better. I have been surrounded by a world wide church family that has prayed me through hard times and celebrated the good ones. I have a family at home that loves me and fights for me daily. I could go on and on but I have truly learned the meaning of being "more then blessed"

Just like me

This kid. Oh, this kid. Christopher. Sometimes he makes you want to pinch his cheeks (an Indian sign of affection) and other times he makes you crazy! He is a leader among his brothers and sisters. As his housemother once said, "Everyone, including me, listens to Christopher." He has a mind like a steel trap, remembering the tiniest of details from long ago. He is smart and translates between English and Telugu often without being asked. He always knows what is going on with the other children and he has a heart for our smallest ones. And if you can't already tell by this photo, they love him.
 Christopher was born with hemiplegia causing arm/leg weakness and was abandoned at the government orphanage as a little boy. He has an anger, that stems from insecurities about being different, that simmers just beneath the surface. He is been kicked out of multiple schools for beating other students (he is currently schooled at home by a tutor). He has a habit of stealing things from others here at the home. Although he has never told me why he steals I strongly believe he does it because he fears that one day there may not be enough. Christopher has been with SCH for a long time, his needs have always been met and then some.
This week Christopher gave me an unprompted apology (which is a HUGE deal) for something he had done and in a flash God gave me a picture of my own heart.

Daughter stop working so hard at storing up things for yourself. Let me provide. 
But Father what if you don't? What if you forget or if there isn't enough? I'll keep a little just in case. Ok?
Daughter let go! Can't you see you are making a mess and causing so much pain.
But Daddy they hurt me. I am right to be angry. This is wrong.
Daughter I am The Great Provider, The Healer, The Almighty God. I have you in the palm of my hand and you cannot be touched. You are mine.

Christopher is battling himself. He knows that he is loved for who God created him to be. He knows he is completely provided for. Jesus is whispering at Christopher's heart for his total trust and submission. Just like He is whispering in mine. Only then will we have peace.
My children and I are on this Kingdom Journey together. May the Lord bless our steps.

~Pray for us as we continue to move our children to their new homes. Adjustment has been hard on kids and caregivers alike.
~Pray that we hire good Godly Indian staff that love our children well.
~Pray for the adoption process for our children as it is continually being stonewalled by the Indian government.
~Pray for me as I enter into month 5 I am starting to feel exhaustion. Pray for strength, grace and stamina.

A hug, a kiss, a wave, the end.

Cheena Do,
      Remember when you were sitting on my lap and I said it was time for me to go? You hopped off my lap, gave me a backhanded wave and walked away. I used to think this was you being an independent three year old boy. That is until a couple of days ago. I had to say a very hard and frustrating goodbye to someone I had come to count on. I was feeling sorry for myself when I thought of all the goodbyes I have had to say since coming to India. This is a transient place. Caregivers come and go, sometimes without notice. Volunteers stay long enough to form attachments and then they leave. It was then that I realized your whole life has been defined by goodbyes.
     You were too young to remember your parents when they said goodbye. I am not really sure you even know what parents are. The number of ahyas and nurses you have had caring for you in your short life is probably more then we could count. Maybe there have been a hundred of foreign volunteers that have come bearing sweets and treats who stay for a few days or maybe a year before waving goodbye forever.
     That is why you say goodbye the way you do. So flippantly. You, at the age of 3, have decided that goodbyes are always permant. Every time you say goodbye to someone you are certain you are never going to see them again. I think that it is also why when someone comes it takes you so long to come over and say hello because you know you have to say goodbye. Some of your brothers and sisters have accepted this fact and decided that any attention is better then none. So when people arrive they immediately swarm them, clambering for hugs and kisses. They scream goodbyes clinging and crying when the person leaves. Others have formed close attachments with their ayahs.  But a few, like you, are different. In your heart of hearts you know that this life you have is not what it should be. Something is missing. No little boy should ever have to wonder if people he cares about are going to come back.
     This realization, somewhat to my surprise, deeply hurts me. It makes me pray all the more fervently for you and your siblings that God would lead wonderful Christian "forever families" to our door to take you home. Home to a place where you will run and greet people when they walk in the door, a place where you never have to say goodbye again. Until then I praise God you have a home here with us and that you have a wonderful home nurse, whom you call "ma", that loves her boys well.
      I pray that no matter how many goodbyes you have to say you will grow up to know you are a son and an heir to a Father who has been by your side since the day you were born. I also pray that despite the brokenness you have experienced you learn to love well. There are no orphans of God, sweet one.
Nenu Ninnu premistunnanu

P.S. This week it is I who will have to say goodbye to you as you and your ana go to the big city to visit the doctor. When you come back to us  healthier then when you left, I want the giant running hug I got today. Ok?



*Cheena do is the Telugu pet name for little boys*

Tele

Three months. Today. Whoa that went fast! My days can be incredibly long but the months fly by. People, both here and at home, wonder what I do on a daily bases. My stand by answer is that I really have no idea. Whatever it takes to keep 107 kids healthy. Which translates into non stop on the go activity from 7am till evening. My Indian co-workers absolutely hate my schedule. In a place where tea times are still observed and all meals are sit down family affairs in which people connect over food. I discovered that my 15 min. check in to drop medications off is actually hurting my Indian relationships. Community is a deep value here and trust is built when time is spent. So the overarching theme for me in month three has been to sit and just be.
We have been short staffed in the nursing department here (note: this is not an Indian thing. I have never worked a job that has not been short staffed at one point or another) so in addition to doing the things required for 107 kids to get their medication, or see a doctor I have been covering for some of our nurses by feeding and giving daily medication at some of our homes. Needless to say rest, as in extra sleep or a day off, has not been really an option. So God has been forced to teach me about rest in some new and different ways.
I have sat down on the floor to asses a kid and have had one of his brothers straighten my kurta (shirt) climb into my lap and fall asleep. Which forced me to stay for afternoon tea with the Indian staff while watching the rest of the boys being, well, boys :-) Once I was playing worship music on the porch when one of our young ladies, who can be hard to interact with, started laughing and taping her hand along with the music. I sat and found so much enjoyment in worshipping God with her. I ended my day a little early the other day so I could celebrate with our school girls in their new apartment. Watching them scream and laugh and dance around together brought me so much joy, they have been waiting for so long.
I got sick for the first time this month and ended up spending the day in bed. While there was absolutely no way I could have done anything useful I still felt extreamly lazy. I had so much to do and even my attempts to work on the computer failed. I was frustrated (can you say workaholic?) But I felt God speaking to my heart saying,

Daughter, I did not bring you to India to burn out in your own strength. Rest in me. Let me be the power that drives you. I have been caring for these precious children long before you came on the scene. Simply rest in my prensence and  take the time to enjoy my most wonderful creation. That is how you love me, and them, best.

There is always going to be something for me to do. After all, there are 107 kids that all have medical needs. But slowly I am learning that, while some things in my job are emergant, taking a 20 minuet nap once in awhile or sitting with a school kid while they read me their English homework is also time well spent. I came here to love well and loving well sometimes means taking the time to just be.

 

Sunset from my  roof (unedited)

 *Tele is the Telugu word for hush*

Make us find what we’ve been missing


     Just to clarify, I do not work with special needs children. I do however serve children with special needs. First and always foremost they are children. When my children are stared at and whispered about because their hands don't work like they should or because they drool or don't talk clearly, they wither. Sometimes they even act out by punching others. When they are told over and over again that they incapable of doing something they stop doing everything all together.
     My children are children just like the thousands of others in the world. They giggle when they are happy and cry when they are sad. They love being held and snuggled. They enjoy playing and taking walks around the neighbourhood. They glow when they are praised for doing something well and never cease to amaze me with the things they are capable of when given the chance.
     My children have been created by God with unique challenges that may make you think outside of the box in order to play that game or get that smile. Yes, sometimes my children's differences are frustrating but I find that when I embrace the challenge and the giggle as a reward is so much more of a blessing then it would have been otherwise. These kids are teaching me so much about myself and who I want to be in Christ.
     My children are created in the image of Almighty God with unique needs and I think their "special needs" are so that I get a clearer picture of who the One True God really is.

 Can you spell t-r-o-u-b-l-e? Gosh darn it if it isn't cute trouble though.

~Pray that I would continue to learn how to love my kids well
~ Pray for our fundraising goals to be met so the kids can move into the new homes. Click here to find out more.
~ Pray for good solid Indian Christian nurses to be led to work for SCH. We are in desperate need.

If it doesn't break your heart, it isn't love.

A couple of weeks ago I had the opportunity to travel from Ongole to the big modern city of Hyderabad. Think Marion, IN to Indianapolis, IN. While we have most modern conveniences here in Ongole, we are still very traditional. Woman never show their ankles or their shoulders. Going to the movie theatre is somewhat scandalous. We have no restaurants that Westerners would know but the food from the street vendors tastes like it comes from your grandmother's kitchen. I buy the fabric for my clothes in the local market and have it sewn at a local tailor. Hyderabad is like any city in the West. The girls and I went to a mall and we were completely overwhelmed. As I walked around and saw the familiar sites of Forever 21 and Chili's Restaurant I started feeling homesick. But as I thought about it I realized I wasn't homesick for Lombard but for Ongole.
I missed my breakfast dosa costing me 0.35 cents, served on a banana leaf and newspaper.

I missed the view that greets me every time I brush my teeth.

I missed zooming about the city in autos.

But above all I missed my children. It was then that I realized for the first time that these kiddos have become my family and that I am head over heels in love with them.
So while I may shed a few tears at missing events like family reunions, weddings and birthdays, God has made India my home for the foreseeable season. My children are here and they need me.

Beautiful Things from Terrible Lies

       It has been an incredibly busy two weeks. Due to life events happening within our staff  I have been pulling double duty as house parent/nurse for 10 children in addition to my regular duties in overseeing health care for the 90 other children. These have been long days starting at 6am and sometimes never ending. Over the past couple of days my attitude has become bitter and I have thrown one or two temper tantrums about being tired (It is a skill I have mastered from house parenting two two year olds....). I kept telling God that today was it I wasn't going to get out of bed because I couldn't do it any more (FYI by God's strength and grace I always did end up getting out of bed!)
Then on Sunday I had an hour off and I spent it listening to a sermon by Louie Giglio. Ever had those moments when God pulls out His 2x4 and just nails you with it? This 2x4 was entitled "Get over yourself. It's not about you" The sermon is about how everything in the universe, from stars to whales, praises God.  While I was listening I kept seeing moments in my week when everything, in my view, looked out of control and wrong but how God orchestrates those moments into praise for His glory.
       Later in the day my duties took me to Victory home where I inadvertently arrived just as church was starting. It was really the last place I wanted to be, with all I had to do, but it was one of those situations that you can't walk out of so I took a seat in the back of the room. Immediately, I was piled under a group of 7-8 girls including a girl named Faith. Faith is one of the children whom it has been hard for me to love, mostly because I don't know how to love her. Faith has autism and the first time I met her was when, to get my attention, she bit me on the  tender underside of my upper arm, leaving a very impressive bruise. Molly, who was here for June/July as  amazing special education intern, had always told me that Faith had a very sweet and tender side but I have not been willing to spend the time to find out. But this time I couldn't run and hide from Faith. I watched cautiously as she gently picked up my chuney (the scarves woman wear with our Punjabis) and carefully wiped off the sweat from my face and neck. I sat in amazement as after she was done she clapped her hands and raised arms to the tune of the music like all the ayahs were doing around her. In that moment I saw that God created Faith just the way she is so as to bring Himself glory.



       As I continued to sit there and reflect on the words of the sermon I watched the school boys of the home up to there usual mischievous antics and my heart melted. Earlier in the week I was called out to the home to assess Ezra, one of our boys with cerebral palsy, who was having seizures (or fits as they are called here.) Sadly, seizures are nothing new for a large number of our children but we usually have them under very good control so they are still scary and stressful when they happen. There was a lot of excitement in the room and as I was getting medication ready to give to Ezra I was swarmed by three of our inquisitive school boys who, in their own way, were trying to help. In reality they were in the way. My first instinct was to yell and kick them out but instead I turned to them and said, "Boys, I need to give this medicine and I need you to pray that Yesu (Jesus) heals Ezra. Ok?" They nodded and one of the boys very quietly asked "Sister, do you want us to pray in English or Telugu?" I had to smile at that and I told them Telugu would be just fine. (A few of our school boys speak English very well and they translate for me all the time). I gave Ezra the injection and the seizures subsided. A few minuets later as I sat holding a smiling Ezra I asked the boys if they had prayed. They all nodded and said "Yes, sister". Later, I came back to check on Ezra and was greeted at the gate by one of the school boys who pulled me into Ezra's room and said, "Look sister, that boy is eating rice because Jesus made his fits not come!" Needless to say, I got a bit choked up. God found glory in a horrible situation by showing three 10 year old boys a glimpse of His mighty power.



These are just the big stories. I could go on and on with stories like how the ayah I have been working with the past two weeks threw a dance party with the kids in the living room singing songs praising God for His marvellous creation. Everything is for His glory. These moments have refresh me and make me want to get up in the morning to see what He has planned. I am certain that had I not been so overwhelmed I would have missed seeing these moments completely because I would have been content with what I had and where I was.

To God be the glory forever and ever. Amen

Child, Everything I have created sings praises to me. Watch, be vigilant ,listen and you will witness beautiful things.

• Pray for us as we continue to be short staffed across the board. People are getting exhausted. Pray for strength and grace. Pray that we rely fully on God's strength not our own.

• Pray that we would find good, hard working staff that want to love our children well.

• Pray for Andhra Pradesh, the province I live in, as elections were just held and not everyone is happy with the results.

• Pray for the adoption process for our children. It is been on hold because of strikes in the Child Welfare Department here in India.

For the ones I don't see

This is Glory and while she really is this beautiful, this photo is deceiving. I don't love on Glory like this, ever. In fact until Katie (the very talented taker of this photo) asked for help in getting Glory ready for her blog photo the only interaction I had had with Glory was giving her morning medicine. The worst part of it all is that it has been a month since this photo was taken and I haven't loved Glory like this since.
In a world where caregivers are out numbered by children attention is to be fought hard for. Glory is quite and can't walk as well as her brothers and sisters. There is always someone who yells louder or commands attention better than Glory and so she misses out on the snuggles and kisses that every girl deserves.
There is more then one Glory. The children that don't get seen or that are hard to love. I am posting this photo as a reminder to myself. I cannot forget the look in Glory's eyes in this photo. She is a child who is known, loved and adored by Yahweh Roi, The God Who Sees. He has asked me to see Glory, not as one more child to care for, but as a daughter of The King, His Princess.

If you feel led to join me in loving Glory you can do so by clicking here. For a list of other children in need of sponsors to see them click here.

Amma

Titles in my region and culture of India are very important. No one, except for children, are referred to by their first names only. People in everyday speech are always referred to as Ana (brother) or Aka (sister). In places of authority, doctors or government officials, one is called Master, Sir, Madam (sometimes because I am a foreign woman I am referred to by this title as well. ) Auntie and Uncle are used as terms of endearment for people who are respected. I didn't realize how much is lost when formalities like these are lost, as they have been in the West.
I came here with the self imposed title of "nurse" on my "Hello, My Name is" badge. Gradually I felt like I grew into the title of Aka. It is a role I am very familiar with. The big sister. I can be the fun one and the bossy one (no comments from the peanut gallery Jenna Lynn...) but still with no real responsibility for the kids. Then this past week some of the little boys started calling me Amma, mother.
At first I was taken aback. I am NOT a mother. Then I realized that the title of mother has a totally different meaning for me then it does for theses children. To them Amma is what you call a woman caregiver, who throughout your life come and go. To me the word holds so much more depth. It conveys love, nutriting, family, late night stomach flus and long boring swim meets. No, in my eyes, I am not an Amma, (yet) but the more I looked at the past two weeks through the lenses of that title I see "mama" is a title that God has me growing into for this season.
Some mornings I get up early and walk down the street to the school girls (and a few boys) home. In the beginning I would just sit and watch while playing the role of human jungle gym. The past few times I have found myself running around finding school uniforms, doing hair, feeding breakfast, and making sure everyone has a lunch and shoes (on the correct feet!) before rushing everyone out the door to the waiting van (you think school mornings are crazy at your house? Try it with 15 kids...).  This week as they drove away screaming "Bye Aka!" and blowing kisses out the window I found myself thinking of how much I have come to love my kids.
We are in the process of moving nearly all our children to brand new (as in still smelling like fresh paint) homes. Instead of having large homes (our biggest had 70+ children), these homes have approximately 8 children per home. This family style environment has been a dream of Sarah's since day one of SCH and it has been awesome to be a part of the dream becoming reality. It has been a very hectic week to say the least. But as I sat packing boxes, with one hand because the other arm held a very fussy 6 month old, I became so excited to see these kids flourish into their own people, in these new homes.

But as I look back over the past two weeks there is one thing that stands out to me more then anyother in my becoming of an amma. While I live in the "city" of Ongole it is a very rural one (for you Indiana people think Kokomo with about 2,000 more people). We have hospitals and doctors but in order for our children to receive the best medical care we take them to the big modern city of Hyderabad, which is about 8 hours away. When I first applied to come to SCH these trips were something that I said that I really want to be a part of and two weeks ago I got to do just that.  Two of our children, Nolan and Lydia, have Cerebral Palsy (CP) and have been having difficulty swallowing. Because of this they have not been getting the nutrition they need, Sarah decided to have Mickey tubes (g-tubes, feeding tubes) placed for both of them. The day before we left David, one of our older CP boys, broke his femur and the decision was made to take him to the orthopaedic surgeon in Hyderabad. I was under the  very good tutorship of one of the SCH Indian nurses and expected to just sit back and watch her work, while I waited (there is A LOT of waiting involved in Indian hospitals) with the kids. Quickly, the plan changed. I found myself taking the active role. I first noticed it when we were talking to the ortho doctor, who immediately explained his plans for David in English completely skipping a Telugu explanation for the SCH nurse benefit. Now if I had been a good Indian nurse I would have head bobbled and said "Thank you, sir". But a sense of advocacy came over me. I had questions about my ana and I wanted answers. He was a bit surprised, mainly because I used orthopaedic medical terms, but said he was impressed with my "knowledge". It became apparent to me then that nursing has become much  more personal for me, now I am nursing my family.

That feeling kept growing in me as the week continued. I talked to the doctors, paid the bills and sat in endless waiting rooms with squirmy children. I filled out all the admission paperwork under the title of guardian, (even though I desperately wanted somebody to fill it out as "mother"). It was the surgical consent paperwork that made me take a step back. It was the same sheet I have had families fill out countless times. But now the shoe was on the other foot. Something bad could happen to my children? What!? I finally have an understanding the fear that patients feel at these clauses and why some won't sign them. I knew that these surgeries were life saving, life giving, and necessary for these kids but it was still scary. I walked into pre-op with David said a quiet prayer, for him, his doctors, and for myself and watched as they wheeled him away. Later that night I went back and found him being his goofy happy self with a cast from toes to thigh. If not for that cast you would never have known anything was wrong (He is recovering so well. We will go back in August for a check up and cast removal.)


The next day I sat in a wheelchair holding Lydia, while my housemate sat in another wheelchair holding Nolan, and we were wheeled from the paediatric ward to the operating theatre. Out of all of the children with us Lydia was the weakest. At seven years old she weighed about 20 pounds, couldn't talk or sit up. But she had an infectious smile and laugh that continued through lab tests and IV starts. As I sat in pre-op holding her I thought of how this surgery would change her life. When we came home to Ongole we would mix up high protein nutritious meals to make her beautifully chubby. I said a quick silent prayer over her and her doctors as they took her from my arms to the OT. Then I left to go back to my room to rest and have lunch. Lydia had a rough time recovering immediately post-op , which isn't something that surprised me considering her condition, but five days later she was discharged to the care of the SCH nurse (I had already come back to Ongole to help with the move). She was out of the hospital 8 hours when the nurse noted she was bloated and clammy. She took her to the emergency room and Lydia was readmitted. At 5am I woke up to a phone call from Lydia's housemother frantically telling me that Lydia had passed away. It felt like all the air was knocked out of me. As I talked to the doctor I found that Lydia had in fact coded and had been revived and intubated. Silent tears started streaming down my face. The doctor said that she was responding to treatments and her vitals were improving. While I believe in a God who heals miraculously my nursing brain kept nagging that the facts were stacked against Lydia. She battled in between two worlds but in the end her Daddy called her home.
 I have had many patients die but this time was so different. She was a child who I had seen full of life. Who just one week prior had been playing with my curly blond hair giggling to herself. I was not Lydia's house mother and I didn't know her nearly as long as Sarah but I was  attached to her in a very different way then I had every been with my patients back home.

I struggled, and their are moments when I still struggle, with Lydia's home going. But when I look at the faces of these children here I am renewed. God has called me as a nurse to serve, to love and to advocate for His special children. He has given me a new title to help me complete this role well and it is now full of meaning; Amma.



~Pray for Cassie, Lydia's house mother, Sarah, and Lydia's nurse as they grieve her passing.
~Pray for Nolan who is healing very well and will come home this week. Pray also for Alesa who had emergency brain surgery for a failed shunt.
~Pray for us as we continue to move the children into new homes. Pray for smooth transitions.
~Pray against the works of the Evil One. He has been powerfully at work this week against the SCH family.
~Praises that I was able to get a computer until I can get my other one fixed. (The language settings on the computer are Indian English which is British English spelling...)

If you know anything about medical care, you know it is expensive. SCH is funded entirely on donations. You can help us give the care our children need by clicking here http://www.schindia.com/Special-Projects/urgent-surgery-fund/ 

Okati

     A couple of days ago my dad asked me if I was having “fun”.  I had to answer no, India month one has not been “fun” for me. It has certainly been an adventure but more of the Baja Trail then the Lake of Shining Waters kind. However, India month one has been freeing. God used month one to show me who I am without all the labels I use to define myself.  In America I am single independent women. In India none of these labels are good. Life is understood in community and women aren’t independent. In America I have a four year BSN that allows me to work confidently in top hospitals with autonomy. The degree and the title are almost useless to me in India. The medications have different names, the hospital system has no resemblance to Medicare and I know very little about my patients (think of it as starting a book in the middle). In America I have a close knit family and very dear friends. In India I am a stranger in a strange land. In America I am the chosen daughter of the King who holds me in the palm of His hand and has had divine plans laid out for since the begging of time. In India with all the distractions and labels stripped away I am finally able to see this as truth in my life.

I spent a large part of the month wondering what the heck I am doing in middle of nowhere India. I cried out to God asking for peace and a purpose for my skills and then I started asking for a sign that I should go home to America. He has not answered a single request. At least not the way I wanted. Instead He has given me mounds of adoption paperwork that no one else here has the time or knowledge to complete. He has given me a family of 7 other American women to live with. He has given me a sense of fulfillment when I look back over Victory Home after a week of an intense deep clean from top to bottom by a short term team. He has given me peace in the moments when I am on the floor underneath a pile of giggling girls. He has given me joy in watching a blind girl giggle for hours on end playing in a bucket of water or in seeing the pride of a young man bloom as he helps clean his room. He has given me a heart for the daily small blessings that I would have missed.

India month one was a Peter month for me. I had everything planned, figured out and I ended up drowning. Everything sunk under my feet. But my heavenly Father in His infinite grace and wisdom waits for me pulls me out of the pit and says, “Oh ye of little faith. Are you done yet? Can we get on with my plans now? I chose you for this but it cannot happen apart from me. You can bring nothing with you.  We must do it together, in my power, in my timing, for my glory.”

So here we go. Month two with a new heart. Lead on O King Eternal.

Prayer requests:

-Pray that I will live in a spirit of praise with this new found freedom of having no control.

-Pray that whatever I am doing I will be bringing glory to God.

-Pray for me as I try and discern the Lords will for my future here in terms of becoming a house parent for very sick children.

-Pray for me as I, along with one of my housemates, am accompanying 3 children (and ahyas/nurses) to Hyderabad (an 8 hour trip) for a week of upcoming surgeries.

-Continue to be praying about this http://awakenfromslumber.blogspot.in/2013/06/how-this-here-thing-works.html 

How this here thing works....

 

Who: Sarah’s Covenant Homes. The organization I am serving with here in India. Run by a wonderful lady named Sarah who has been given a vision from God for Indian children with special needs who have been abandoned or relinquished by their parents. We currently have 103 children in our care with physical and intellectual disabilities ranging from no disability (either they were misdiagnosed or the “disability” was treatable) to severe and profound (Autism/cerebral palsy). There could be more children but staff, space , and funds are needed.

What: At SCH we provide services for these children that the government cannot. The children live in a home setting with a ayahs (“nannies”), house parents, and at least one nurse. In addition to providing the basic necessities of life we provide opportunities for children to receive medical care, along with lifesaving (g-tubes, spina bifida repair…) and life giving (club foot repair, vision correction) surgeries.  For those who are able to go, we send them to mainstream schools and for those who are not  we have special education teachers the come to the home. SCH strives to provide a place for these children to be loved, cherished and receive life. But most of all it is a place where these children learn that they are valued, made in the image of a Creator who does not make mistakes. Each one is unique and beautiful.

How: Honestly? Only by the strength and miracles works of God Almighty. And he chooses people like you to make His plans come into fruition. Each of our children (I must clarify that some are adults. Our children and young adults don't age out and we don't turn them away.) is individually sponsored. The sponsorship provides them with shelter, food, clothing, clean bottled drinking water, caretakers (The Indian ayahs, nurses, drivers, cooks etc. are paid a (very tiny) salary) and a new start at life. In addition to individual sponsorship we have funds for other necessities for our children. We need funds so that our children can have the surgeries they need. Our van, used to take the children to school/hospital/activities, bit the dust recently and funds are needed to extend its life.  Speaking of school, our children who attend mainstream school need funds to pay the school fees.  There is also a fund that gives our kids opportunities to be normal kids. Remember the waterpark from last week? Someone like helped us make children laugh like this…

There is always something and nothing is ever free. Sarah is a woman of amazing faith. She sends the kids to school even though we don’t have the funds to do so because she is claiming in faith that God will provide. Sarah’s Covenant Home is a not for profit organization. Every dime we get goes back into helping the kids in some way, shape or form. I along with the other volunteers are not paid to be here. But here we are because God has given us a glimpse of His vision and made us fall in love with His special children.

This is not a post to enact guilt. Pity gets our children nowhere.  Nor is this a post begging for money. God always provides for His children. This post is to empower you with knowledge to let you know SCH works and where you can come alongside us. You can do something. You don’t have to be crazy and move to India. You can change the world for one child even with $40 donated from your couch. God takes that and multiplies it to 2,000 rupees and that partially sponsors one child for a month.  I have only been here three weeks and I have seen it happen. I have seen the peace of a sleeping girl who received spinal surgery, paid by sponsors, that helps her live without pain. I have seen the joy of the children in their new school uniforms. We have so much and the blessings that can come from that are endless.

Can’t donate money? Pray. Pray. Pray. Pray for the daily spiritual battle we wage against the Evil One who doesn’t like seeing these children thriving. Pray for strength, stamina and wisdom for our staff.  Pray for our children individually by name. Pray that we love these children entrusted to us well. Pray that God will provide the funds needed for our children and young adults care. Pray that the donations given will be used for God’s glory.

Finally here are the links to SCH funds. (Here is the link to the main webpage www.schinda.org  It is also on my sidebar here)

Sarah is very good about being transparent about SCH funding….. http://www.schindia.com/details/frequently-asked-questions/

Our children who are still in need of sponsorship. If you sponsor a child fully or partially please let me know I would love to send you pictures and personal updates of him/her!! …. http://www.schindia.com/gallery/not-yet-sponsored-children/

The wheels on the bus go round and round? Help us make that a reality… http://www.schindia.com/Special-Projects/help-resurrect-our-school-van/

Surgeries that we haven't paid for yet and upcoming surgeries for a few of our little ones…. https://docs.google.com/spreadsheet/ccc?key=0Amfwk_HArCifdE5NQnJmcGpDNHlTM2gtb2tiYWtadGc&usp=sharing 

For the surgeries and medical care we can’t foresee...   http://www.schindia.com/Special-Projects/urgent-surgery-fund/

We have 70 children in diapers. Need I say more?... http://www.schindia.com/Special-Projects/diaper-fund/

On behalf of each and every one of the children, thank you. May your family be blessed for blessing ours.