I had been called to pick up a child from a local government facility in 2005. I remember the social worker telling me of a girl they had found on the streets that was a polio victim, retarded, deaf, maybe blind, unresponsive and he wished he had somewhere to giver her away to. I remember asking to see the girl. There are few words to explain what I felt that moment I first saw her. There was no response fromher. She rocked and cried. What a broken human being.









I asked for her file and the social worker mumbled something about being busy and
handed me an empty folder. Her name is Christy, he had said. She’s about 14.

It was strange but I remember clearly as I was stepping outside the office how she reached out and grabbed my hand. I knew I couldn’t leave her.

She didn’t walk so I carried her and so began our journey with this precious girl who has taught us all so much.

She is nothing like how she was 6 years ago. She can walk, and she laughs and smiles all the time. But she is still unable to communicate with words and not always predictable in her behavior, but she is wonderful. The children love her, and often you will see a toddler combing through her hair or sitting on her lap.












She has always slept on the floor though. Where we could see her. Her sleeping
patterns were strange, sometimes waking so early, sleeping so late. With this move
into the room, I wondered if she would she feel confortable in a bed with a bunk on
top? Would she freak out?

For several days I prepped her. You are gong to move into the room with all the big kid girls. You will have your own place to sleep with your own blanket and pillow. It will be so beautiful. She would cock her head and that look she gives me.

The day came and I walked her into the middle of the room. Okay, sweetheart this is your princess bed and this is where you are going to sleep.

To my utter surprise, she exclaimed, “Ang ganda!” (it’s beautiful!) She walked over to her bed, climbed in, and stretched out as far as she could. She adjusted her head on the pillow and closed her eyes, feigning sleep.

The other girls laughed and giggled, Christy loved her bed! She understood it was hers!












My eyes burned with tears. For so long, I had wanted her to have her own place to sleep and her own space. There just hadn’t been funds or the right time. This was really a dream come true.

Funds were raised by the Alpine Church of God for this renovation project. Thank you for your investment in our children.

I saw him in Malabon, of course. Someone in a panic, brought him to me becauseof lump the size of a golf ball in his throat. I was surprised and so was the American surgeon who was with me. I asked where his mother was. Dead, was the answer from the gaggle of teens that had gathered. Where was his father? This brought laughter.

A man, dressed in women’s clothes came out of the shadows. And who takes care of him? I asked. I take care of myself, he said proudly, and then suddenly the tears came. His group of friends was hushed by my glares and I wrapped my arms around him. I remember whispering, Don’t worry. We’ll figure out what to do.

It has taken two months to get him here. On Monday, our community worker in Malabon brought him with nothing but the clothes on his back. We started immediately.  Blood tests, chest xrays. We prepared for him to have a checkup at the local children’s hospital.

His mother died of something similar, he told us, though the details are sketchy. It started out with a lump in her throat, then surgery, then a tube, then she died. Tears again and his body shakes. It is easy to see he is terrified.

Bottom line, it could be a thyroid problem or it could be cancer. We are working on how to get it accurately diagnosed. These things are not that simple here when we can only use government available recourses.

But he is beautiful. And for now he is learning what it feels like to be hugged every day, and what it feels like to have a bed to sleep in, and how warm a full tummy can feel so good before bed.

He knows now, how it feels to be loved.