Little Ones

Our little friend, Abby, was recently moved to an orphanage nearby. The first few days she refused to eat and cried all the time. But now that she has been there for several weeks she has adjusted as well as anyone who's been through a foster care nightmare can. Laurie visits her several times a week and I've finally gotten to hug her wiry little self a few times too. She is the only child from the home where she was who is off-site and can be visited. The rest we know very little about.

She probably wonders why I cry every time I see her… not realizing she is being used as a pawn in a political battle unlike this country has ever seen…or how much I love her and wish she could be part of our family …or that, as far as we can see, that is impossible…

If you were to look up the work, “SPUNK” - I’m pretty sure Abby’s picture would be next to it. “Hi Auntie Julie!” she says, giving me a happy hug upon seeing me.

Located in the sixth floor of a big city hospital, the children in the orphanage rarely, if ever, go outside. There used to be 400 children in two hallways until a Moroccan philanthropist paid for a new building for the older boys. Where are the girls, you say? Girls are adopted out right away to be maids…or worse. And so in an ironic way, Abby’s handicap (she walks with a limp) may save her from the fate of other abandoned girls.

I expected to be depressed upon entering the place, but it was quite the opposite. It was spotlessly clean, sheets changed and floors scrubbed daily, children in clean, nice clothing, toys (OK, so they were all out of reach - but at least they were there!), and best of all - it was obvious the children knew how to hug and be hugged.

So much so, that we were assaulted by toddlers who hugged and kissed us so that I had to sit down to be able to hold the squirming pile of little people. The girls were overwhelmed at first, but began doling out the hugs and kisses too.

The next room was babies in walkers which can only be described as a bumper car event at the fair! Next came the hangin’ around group in swing who were bobbing up and down. There were two rooms filled with toys and music where aides interacted and played with the babies. Then there was the little baby room. Sixty little ones in a room not much bigger than a master bedroom. Lined up in little cribs, they cooed, cried, and slept. A radio was left on to hear voices all the time and an aide circulated around caring for the babies. We went around and held anyone who was crying. It amazed me how the tears ceased as soon as they were held, their little bodies molding to mine. I remembered those days with newborns when ‘all’ I did was hold a baby and realized again that being held is both a necessity and a gift. Four newborns had been ‘dropped off’ the day before. Lying in a row of about twenty others little burritos, they fussed…wondering where their mammas went.

But I am only here for a visit. I cannot come often because it is too far. I am frustrated that at this time in this country, any help or interest in orphans/the abandoned is viewed with suspicion by the government.

I kiss the last little face goodbye and thank God for this place. Though it is not the right solution for Abby, it is a loving place and the future is not in my hands anyway.