An insatiable hunger...

The picture you see above this is not about any of the children you'll read about in the blog. This picture was actually taken the Saturday we went to Rio Blanco. You know, there isn't a section of this city that is poor, or an area of this country that is poor. Poverty shows no favoritism. The shack you see is someone's home. It's not an unusual site...it's more the norm than not.

This will be a fairly short blog...it's not that this news isn't as important as the others, it's that it's getting late and I don't want to put it off for another day. I want to tell you about our time at a local government sanctioned re-nutrition center and safe house for children that's located about a block away from our house. Susanna had been there once before and called us to tell us that she was going again and wanted to know if we would like to meet her there. We jumped at the opportunity!

We gobbled down a sandwich and headed off to the center. It's in a fairly non-descript location with nothing to draw attention to itself. We parked around back and walked in to what I quickly ascertained as controlled chaos. The ladies who were working there seemed to be pretty much immune to what I perceived as the simultaneous crying and fussing of 43 children, ages from a few months old up to about 7 years of age.

We were immediately put to work feeding the littlest ones who were lined up on the floor in little infant bouncy chairs. The children were eating a thickened base of what looked like creamed veggies mixed with some sort of cereal and baby food. It smelled and looked like something I was sure Jim wouldn't eat and he's not that picky of an eater!

I was feeding a small child named Griselda who was probably between 18 months and 2 years of age although she wasn't much bigger than Jeremiah, our 5 month old grandson. She dutifully and systematically ate her dish full of food, never refusing a bit nor fussing to have more. She simply would open her mouth each time I touched the spoon to her lips. She watched me intently, never smiling or showing any emotion. It broke my heart.

This little girl was obviously in need of nutrition but more than that, she was in need of a loving touch. When she was through eating, I picked her up and held her for awhile, all the time talking softly in her ear. There was never a change in her expression. I finally went to put her back in her crib and when I laid her down, she opened her mouth and out came the most pitifully weak little mewing sound. She was crying yet there wasn't any oomph at all to it...and there were very few tears. It was obviously just another hollow protest for who knows what which that little girl had endured. This laying down in the crib was a sense of abandoning to her...she knew it and so did I.

So, what did I do? The same thing any one of you would have done. Yes, there were others who were crying, who wanted to be held, who craved the touch of someone who wanted to show comfort, out of a sense of love, not out of a sense of duty. But this little girl was my "first" at this place and she laid claim to that position so I picked her back up and held her close. She never relaxed or snuggled close...I wish I could tell you she did. She remained rigid and expressionless but she obviously was as "content" as a malnourished, neglected little girl could be under such circumstances.

Jim had his own little charmer with whom he was dealing. She had a curly mop of hair and was just fascinated with Jim's beard...as were most of the other little ones there. She wasn't at all interested in eating but more inclined to want to grab anything that was within reach. She had the most expressive brown eyes and was such a little doll.

Then there was the little guy who never stopped moving while in his playpen. He would grab hold of the sides and swing himself much like a monkey does going from branch to branch. He was constantly in motion and if you got close enough to him, he would try to grab your watch, check out your pockets, pull on your ring...his hands were always working. We laughed and said he was a pick pocket in training...we pray we weren't prophesying over the little cutie. He was an interesting and entertaining one. I noticed that he had an extra "thumb" on his right hand but it didn't seem to slow him down one bit.

Many of the children there seemed to have some sort of physical or mental handicap but that's not surprising. There's a vicious cycle for the weak, the malformed and the handicapped. They ususally don't seem to be as well taken care of as the stronger children are. As a result, they often suffer from malnutrition and its effects far more than a more "perfect" child might. Which in turn, doesn't help them to develop stronger bodies and brighter minds. Poverty is a thief and its victims are most often the poorest and the weakest.

The room we were in had 12 babies, whose cribs were literally lined up touching each other and there were only two women to feed, bathe, change and dress all of them. There obviously wasn't time to interact or play with them. They only had time to take care of the "necessities". Loving on those kids would certainly count as a necessity in my mind.

The two ladies working there seemed very appreciative for the help and I don't think it's a stretch for us to say that if we can get permission and clearance to return, we'll definitely be there. The toddler area was packed with children and toys all over the floor...the adults don't play with them, they just let them play "alone". Another way we could serve...get in there and play with those kids, interacting with them, working their minds and their intellect and talking to them about Jesus...plus, Jim was eyeing the legos and I saw a whole slew of baby dolls. We could work up a little imagination time if given a chance!

This is definitely a place we can offer a helping hand. Sorry I don't have pictures of this place or the kids...we weren't allowed to take any while we were there. One more thought before I go. This is just a drop in the bucket of all the children in this country who are fighting malnutrition, neglect, abuse or abandonment. Don't feel sorry for these 43 children - they have found refuge. Instead, pray for the hundreds of thousands of children who won't even have the opportunity to have gruel spooned in to their mouths...not tonight, not tomorrow.

Well, that's it for now. We'll meet again soon!

Love and blessings,

Lynne