Category Archives: First children in the orphanage

Letting Go: Part 2

Leave a reply

MaritaMarita’s great-aunt Nora* told her story, and with the information the mother Rosa* gave, we solved the mystery of Marita’s true identity. We learned how Marita ended up in a box with the bomberos (search-and-rescue people). Rosa asked her sister to take care of her baby for a couple of days. When the time had passed and Rosa didn’t return, the sister took matters into her own hands. She put Marita in a cardboard box and carried her to the bomberos’ station. She lied to them, saying she had no clue who the baby belonged to, aiming retaliation at her sister. When Rosa returned for her little one and discovered her gone, she immediately went to the police, but they didn’t have any information for her. Later, she saw Marita’s picture in the Prensa Libra newspaper and went to the court claiming her daughter.

It seemed that the judge had similar questions like mine, so Rosa received only a court order to visit her child. I knew that the human-rights group and the court would be investigating the stories of both Rosa and the great-aunt. After a few months, it became obvious that Nora showed more stability and love for Marita, making her a better choice for custody. The judge made that decision, giving the Nora custody and granting the mother permission to make regular visits. Now came the hard part. In all of this, I had to learn about “letting go.”

The Lord graciously prepared me for saying goodbye to this darling baby that had captured my heart. I felt a peace that Marita would be safe with her great-aunt. The day came for me to take her to the court and give up custody.

I looked around the bedroom at all of the items I’d purchased and decided that everything would go with her. In my mind, these items belonged to Marita, and she should be surrounded by her familiar possessions. The adjustment would be difficult, and the stuffed teddy bear, toys, and blankets could help her.

Carrying a huge black garbage bag, a bulging diaper bag, and Marita in my arms, I entered the chamber of the judge. Nora watched anxiously with her eyes, following Marita as I came across the room. She put out her hands to Marita, who turned away, wrapped her arms around my neck, and refused to look at her. Lord, this is going to be very painful for both of us. Give us the strength to make it through this day with your peace. Even feeling the peace, letting go proved to be one of the hardest things I had to do.

*Names have been changed.

Sacrificial Giving

3 Replies

The effects of Hurricane Wilma hit the northeastern coast of Guatemala in 2005. The storm pounded the coast, causing flooding and landslides and devastating villages. Many people were left homeless from this category-five hurricane. Various churches in our area campaigned to get items to take to the victims of the destruction. This topic of conversation moved our girls from being “receivers-in-life” to “givers.” Knowing what it felt like to be in need, these compassionate girls surprised me by their actions.

These girls came to the orphanage with only the clothes on their backs, and their utmost thoughts were to help the needy survivors. They took their possessions and piled them on their bed, deciding what they wanted to give. The items they owned were from a birthday, Christmas, or from a visiting team. I never heard words like, “I don’t have anything to give. There’s nothing I can do. I would if I could.” Instead of any negativism, these girls let the creative juices flow and thought of possibilities. I watched them pack a huge cardboard box with their treasures.

Myra* gave her precious typical guipil (blouse) and corte (skirt). These items are expensive to buy in the market and not part of the clothing distribution we gave the girls. None of that mattered to her. She said, “These are the clothes they are used to wearing, so I will give them some of mine.”

We had a tienda (store) where the girls could buy various items with points they earned. They could earn forty to forty-five points a week. Josselin*, who had saved three hundred points, made an announcement. “I want to buy six dolls to give to the children who lost their toys.”

The mother in me wanted to remind them that they didn’t have to give everything to those who endured the storm. I saw most of their possessions go into the box! However, I also said to myself that I saw real giving in action.  Lord, I think these girls are teaching me another lesson.

Giving hearts showed forth another time when a couple of the girls came home from school wanting to talk to Joanne about “something very important.” In the meeting, they shared their concerns about one of their classmates. They told how Mario* wouldn’t smile and said he hated himself. Kids made fun of him at church and school, calling him wolf because his teeth horribly crooked. These girls wanted to do something to help Mario get orthodontic help. One of our girls had a sponsor who paid for her orthodontic work because of the damage in her mouth. I knew the girls wanted us to find a sponsor for him, but a better idea came out of the meeting. The girls could make items to sell to teams and visitors. They went to work immediately, making Guatemala-style pens by weaving different colored threads around an ink pen. They even wrote words and names in the weaving. Team members from the States taught them to make typical jewelry. In time, they had enough money for Mario to start his treatment. (Orthodontic treatment in Guatemala is much less than in the States.) His mother thanked the girls with tears in her eyes and said, “Mario no longer hates to go to church, and now he smiles.”

We desired to make a difference in the lives of the girls living in Shadow of His Wings and here they made a difference in the life of this boy. The girls unknowingly taught me more about this important lesson of sacrificial giving, because I saw in their hearts that they weren’t expecting anything in return. Not only did they give out of their need, but they learned to finds ways to make it happen. I wanted to learn more about giving out of my need, and I saw a perfect example in front of me.

*Names have been changed.

Family Blending

2 Replies

Outside circumstances added the red hot pepper to the chili, so to speak, but real life took place within the walls of the orphanage. With the addition of each child, the blending of a family became more difficult. Each girl had her own baggage, but the needs were similar. They hungered for love and a sense of belonging. Lord, help me to show Your love to these girls and that we are a family.

“Mama Carroll is my mother, and I am the only one who can call her Mama,” Leti* announced one evening at the supper table. Paola* jumped up and ran crying into the bedroom. Leti sat with a satisfied grin on her face. I went to Paola, denouncing what Leti said and assuring her of my love for her.

Xiomara* would strike out at Paola whenever she thought nobody saw her. Lorena* confided that she might be pregnant because she vomited and her breasts ached. The timing of when she came to us would make this a possibility. We faced all these issues and more on a daily basis.

I cringed at the possibility that Lorena might be pregnant. We didn’t establish an orphanage with this possibility in place. She would have to go to another Home where her needs would be met. Oh, Lord, she has adjusted well here, and what would happen to her younger sister? This issue needed to be addressed now. I quickly went to the pharmacy and purchased a pregnancy kit. We thanked God when the test showed negative.

Dealing with Xiomara proved interesting as well. “She’s a liar, I didn’t steal anything,” shouted Xiomara* at Mari*. The directors of the school had a different story, and the implications were clear. I knew that Xiomara came from a crime-ridden area in the City. Notorious for its violence, we gringos avoided going there except for special ministry. The behavior of this girl showed that environment’s influence. She lied, stole, hit, fought, and swore. Our work was cut out for us, and I could understand why her parents had put her in the orphanage.

One afternoon, after Xiomara had been disciplined for her negative actions, she manifested by passing out. Her hands went cold, and her lips swelled and looked distorted. She scared all of the staff when she shouted, “Death is at my feet; oh death is at my feet.” This reeked of a drama-queen thing, but because of the physical signs, Joanne and I decided we needed to take her to the doctor. A missionary nurse came to analyze the situation and confessed that she was leaning toward drama queen, but it would be safer to have a doctor check her out. Meanwhile, we prayed for her deliverance, and within an hour she looked and acted normal. After her appointment, the doctor reported that he couldn’t find anything physically wrong.

Our little family struggled, but with the time invested from the staff and missionaries around me, we saw progress. Each situation was dealt with and sometimes repeatedly so. The children received the daily devotions and times of prayer with an openness that amazed me. Learning of the Lord Jesus Christ and His love for them moved them to tears.

“Paola, I’m sorry I slapped you. Please forgive me,” whispered Xiomara as she moved in for a hug. We had come together before bedtime, and something moved over the girls with a need to repent and ask for forgiveness from those who had been wronged. Oh, Lord, this is music to my ears. Keep touching their hearts with Your love. This makes all that we have gone through worth it.
*Name has been changed.

The Police Visit

1 Reply

The day after we received the three girls, the court called about another thirteen-year-old who would be transferred from another orphanage into our Home. The administrator and friend of another orphanage had recommended us for custody. When she arrived, she looked like a beanpole with kinky matted hair and sad eyes. Paola reminded me of an abused kitten looking for someone to hold and pet her but ready to run in a minute.

I took a deep breath and looked at this growing family. I felt the overwhelming need in their lives for love and protection. I cried out to the Lord, because I knew I couldn’t give them all that they needed. The emotions I felt with the arrival of each one tore at my heart. I decided at that time that I could cry, and I didn’t need to be tough. I just needed to realize that the power and might came from the Lord Jesus Himself. I prayed a prayer that I would repeat over and over. Lord, do not let my heart be desensitized to what these children are feeling. I need to feel their pain so that I will stay motivated in helping them in any way you lead me.

Later, when in the kitchen, I heard screaming from the upstairs bedroom. I glanced out the kitchen window and saw a man and woman standing outside the gate. The Guatemalan helper went upstairs to deal with the girl who screamed, Xiomara*, while I went out to the front with our cook. Xiomara’s parents had found the orphanage and decided they wanted to visit with her. I explained that none of the children could receive visits until they had been in the Home for six weeks. The children needed time to adapt without any outside interference. I looked at the father and wondered why Xiomara needed to live with us, when he sported a big gold necklace around his neck and wore rings on his fingers, and both he and his wife were dressed well in modern clothes.

“If you don’t let us see our daughter, we will go to the police,” yelled the mother.

“I’m sorry, but I already explained that I can’t do that,” I calmly replied, even though I shook like a leaf and watched every movement they made. What if he has a gun? Lord, protect us. 

The couple left, and I breathed a sigh of relief, but that was short-lived. A short time later, I looked out the window and saw a lot of activity and eight policemen in front of the gate. Oh goodness, Lord! I think I’m outnumbered. Send more angels. You said you would give me what I need when I needed it. Show me the right things to say, Lord, and please keep me out of jail. I put on my bold face and walked out to meet the captain. He glanced up to see Xiomara in the bedroom window screaming, “Mama,” before someone moved her to another room.

Out of all the men, one wore an official-looking brimmed hat, so I went to greet him and the other men. When he introduced himself to me, he confirmed that he was the one in charge. My Spanish ability stretched beyond what I thought was capable. It took several minutes for me to communicate the situation and why the couple had to wait for six weeks before they could see their daughter. “Captain, Sir, they are the ones who took her to the court for placement in an orphanage, and now they want to see her before the allowed time.” I stood firm in what I said, and, in time, the captain saw our side. He told the parents that they would have to follow the policy of the Home.

Moving toward the car he said, “I will take them with me, and I assure you they will not come back to bother you. Thank you for what you are doing.” They all left, and I couldn’t get my legs to function to take me back into house. I think every bit of adrenaline had been used in my body. Lord, this whole orphanage idea is turning into quite the adventure. Am I right that more is coming this way? If I had truly known what was coming, I think I might have run the other way. Its good that the Lord doesn’t usually tell us in advance what His plan includes. I’m learning that it is better to take one day at a time.

*Name has been changed.