About Me

We only go around once, but if we do it right, once is enough~

Saturday, February 2, 2008

Orphanage In Brazil


When we were living in Brazil, our travel and social schedule was hectic. When free time finally became available,
I wanted to see be part of everything. When asked if I would like to visit one of the orpahages that was not too far from Brasilia, I jumped at the opportunity.

The first day for me to visist this little outpost felt rewarding yet bewildering. The children seemed only curious about the four of us. Even though we had brought toys and smiles, their little faces didn't change. They held onto their fixed sad face. They didn't even smiIe as we handed them a toy.
Their sad little faces seemed to be the only look they knew.
I couldn't help but wonder if our presence made them insecure in some way. I couldn't assess what they were thinking. Was it that they never had visitors and didn't know what to expect? Maybe they knew what I didn't know at the time ~ the toys would only be collected after we left. Being glad and happy didn't seem to be a part of their world.

Two slight built and no doubt over-worked nuns lived there with the 20 or so children. As you can see, they were dressed in regular clothes. They were soft spoken and kept their distance. No one met us as to be in charge. We were allowed to mingle and go where we pleased. This was my first time ever to visit an orphanage. Didn't take long to know it wouldn't be my last.


I fell in love with the little girl you see sitting on my lap. She was the most beautiful child I had ever, ever seen.



Each visit was basically only to take toys and socialize with the little ones. All they wanted was to be near, be held and perhaps snatch a brief moment of love.
The little girl on my lap had an ear full of drainage from an untreated ear infection. It was easy to want to whisk away these children and make their lives better. My love for this little girl soon overwhelmed me to the point of seriously wanting to adopt her. To my great disappointment, there was a mother somewhere in the picture making her unavailable to be adopted.
That didn't keep me from driving the 70 kms out of Brazila when possible to take things, visit all and hold that little girl.

Toys taken one week would not be there the following week. When I asked the nuns about this, was met with silence. We learned not to ask about this, as the toys were always sold.
Wash day was everyday for all these children. A couple of tubs outside for this task and hang clothes on barbed-wire clothes lines. Clothes pins would have been a luxery for this place. She is using the fence and bike as well.

One day when walking through the one large room where the children slept and stayed if not outside. The room had rows and rows of little beds.
In a far courner was a little boy on his bed apparently sleeping this mid-afternoon. A closer look told me he wasn't well. A touch told me his fever was extreme. He didn't respond at all. I guessed him to be about 6 or 7 years old. I always thought of my own children when I encountered the unknown illness...
and went immediately to the nun who was in the kitchen.

Did she know the child was very, very sick? Yes, she responded and kept on with her task. Can we get a doctor to see him? The doctor would be there on his routine rounds which was due in two weeks. "No, he can't wait," I said, "this child needs to be seen immediately."
She was calm and unmoved. "Can't we have the doctor come to see him now?"
She explained he had a schedule and only came once a month.

Here I was, interjecting my own culture into the world they knew. When I realized the woman was doing as well as she could, I returned to the child
to assess him more closely. For sure, he was in very serious condition. I wanted to scoop him up and take him with me to the Embassy Doctor, but knew this would not be acceptable. There was no choice but to leave him there. In my heart, I desperately wanted to help this little guy.
I thought of our own doctor.

The 70 kms went quickly as I drove to the American Embassy and into the medical clinic.. "What can we do?" The answer was 'nothing.' To interfer could even cause an International incident. To take and administer medicine was ill-advised. I was to stand down and do nothing. Was too late in the afternoon to return and with nothing to do. I went home...to ponder and think of how awful poverty is in this world.

I wish I had taken that advise in full and stayed home the next day, but no...as soon as my children were on their school bus, I was on my way to do what I could for this little boy who was dying all alone in this room. It hurt to know no one was there with him...no one to wash his face and care for him. No one to love him.

When I drove up to the orphanage, the children were scattered here and there. I walked straight to the little boys bed. My heart sank ...the bed empty....it was made up all neat and orderly. Children had followed me into the building and now looking up at me with those big eyes. No one smiled...not even me.
I picked up my little girl and they all followed me outside to sit in the sun.


iJune

3 comments:

WV Janis said...

iJune

I can't believe you have these great posts and your friends aren't leaving comments. Invite them to lunch one day, sit them down and set up google accounts for them. They will get hooked. Anything and everything they are interested in can be found on a blog somewhere.

Out of 700+ views of your blog, I think I must be 100. I check to if your friends are responding. Get them blogging.

Who do you think was better off-- the street kids or the orphanage kids? Were there ever happy endings?

Anonymous said...

Mom- what a sad story - but one that should be told. You truly have a gift of writing to be able to share you story in such a moving and touching way. I love you for that - and many other amazing attributes!!

Jen

June said...

I love comments, however, most tell me they are afraid to register. They prefer to comment via emails. They all are like me and wear "Mom jeans." (smile). Amazing that I am even posting. Some of us are a little suspicious of the Web. iJune

Memories ~ Life is a great trip!


View My Stats

Blog Archive