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.