To Be Known

Have you ever thought about what it really means to be known by someone and what a privilege that really is? During the evenings when I was in Haiti, we would often sit around at the guest house and talk about the day or the kids, or whatever was on our minds. One particular evening early on in our trip the physical therapist who was there pointed out to us that the kids at the orphanage don't even know what it is like to be known. She said things like, "No one knows that Bruce eats his food quickly because he doesn't know if his next meal is guaranteed. No one knows that Tamara hates the color pink but she wears it nearly every day because that's what she is given. No one knows that Ferlando wakes up at night because he has nightmares. No one knows that Rose Mirtha is reminded of her dad every time she hears a vehicle and wonders if he is ever coming back. No one knows that Jonathan loves peanut butter." Those are only examples, but just think about how many people are in your life who know many simple things about you. Who know what ticks you off and what brings you even a little bit of joy...maybe your spouse, kids, parents, siblings, friends.

But for these kids, daily life is routine and they are just one of many. The live in the same house, share the same toys, sit at the same table, listen to the same nannies...every day. It is so important for kids to have the love and attention they need and for them to know that someone cares deeply about them. But these kids don't get much of that. After reflecting on this, there were several times at the orphanage when I took it upon myself to spend intentional one-on-one time with certain kids who we had been told were particularly in need of special attention. I did my best during that time to make those little girls feel like I was an advocate of sorts for them. I wanted them to know that they are cared for, loved, and important. They are so much more than just one of many. I tried not to let other kids invade our space together during that time, but instead give my full attention to her. I don't know how much difference 1 or 2 hours will make in those girls' lives, but doing that is part of the beauty of going to orphanages, even if it's only for 5 days. The practical things are very important and will last much longer than us being there did. But if those children can get time one-on-one and not be one of many at least for a little while (hopefully by others who visit them too), then I hope that begins to instill in them a sense of importance, love and individuality. I hope that through that in their little hearts they see Jesus and they begin to understand that Jesus loves them and wants to know them and spend time with them.

There was one little girl that was there who I particularly wanted to spend time with. She arrived at the orphanage on the same day we got there, just before we visited the orphanage for the first time. Her name is Pongie. (Just as an example of how little known some of these kids are, we are still unsure if her name starts with a "B" or a "P". Even the staff at the orphanage hadn't figured it out before we left.) Her mom dropped her off that day because she realized that Pongie has a better chance of survival at an orphanage than with her family. I can't imagine what it must have been like for Pongie to be dropped off by her mom, expecting her to return and yet each day that goes by, she still hasn't seen her. (I can't post it because one of the kids in the picture is going through the adoption process, but I have a picture of kids enjoying playing with bubbles on the porch and Pongie is there in the background, standing on the wall and looking out towards the entrance of the orphanage as if she is watching for her parents.) It's not like it was easy for her mom by any stretch of the imagination! She called every morning at 7 to find out how Pongie was doing. I can't imagine what that must have done to a mother's heart. I don't know statistics on this, but it seems that a parent giving up a child for his or her own good is a common occurrence and it's not the first time I've witnessed it. (Check out my blog "Beautiful Things" about an organization that works with families to prevent this.)

On the first day Pongie held back a lot and didn't feel much of a need to engage with anyone. She also wouldn't eat. On the second or third day, I was sitting with her just before lunch. When it was her turn to wash her hands, she did, but once she was directed toward the kitchen to sit down and eat, she refused and ran away. I went and picked her up and stood in the kitchen with her for awhile as I waited for a nanny to be available. But the nannies were busy with other kids as they finished one by one, received their drinks of water, and got their little hands washed. So I stood there in the corner and waited with Pongie. While we waited, she fell asleep in my arms. I cherished that time of waiting with her. She still didn't want to go when the nanny took her, but she needed to eat. I tried to spend a little bit of time with her each day after that. I can't imagine how difficult it must have been for her to experience becoming an orphan in those few days. 

One afternoon during nap time she was having trouble staying in one spot and going to sleep. So I laid down with her on my tummy and eventually she fell asleep. Tears came to my eyes when she woke up in the middle of her nap in a state of delirium and panic crying for her mama. I pressed her head to my chest and held her tight and she soon fell asleep again. But how often in the coming years will she have someone to comfort her when she wakes up in a panic? It pains my heart to think of these things. Yet this is the daily reality of orphans. Even at a good orphanage.

I used to occasionally wonder why I go on expensive trips for a week and spend most of my time playing with kids who may not remember that I was there. Don't get me wrong, being with those little kiddos is my favorite part of these trips. But I've always wanted to make sure I am doing something of lasting value while I am there. But now I know. Now I know that I can go and be the arms of Jesus as I hold these kids. I can love them and have patience with them as He would. I can play with them, tickle them, kiss them and help them enjoy life as He would. I can begin to help them understand that Someone cares about them, Someone much greater than I. And it's because of that Someone that I am there.

Please pray for orphans around the world.