Troubled Faces and Heavy Hearts

Last Friday was the final Friday of the month. And the kids knew that meant visitation day. Some were silent in sorrow for they knew they would not be seeing their parents. Fito, Pamela, and Daniela are not allowed to be seen by their mother because of the unspeakable pain she put them through. But, most displayed excitement on their faces. After breakfast, the children put on their nicest clothing. Bryan and Fito dressed in their black slacks and white button down shirts. With much enthusiasm, they asked me to help with their clip on ties. We opened the hair gel and they had me fix their hair, which was no easy task. I did it over and over again until it looked just right,by their standards of course. All eighteen of us loaded up the white Ford van and headed toward the State Orphanage. With a few delays, three vomiting children, one happening to be on me, we pulled into the State Orphanage in the city. Waiting at the gate was Cindy and Maryuri’s mother. She was a young twenty year old Honduran who became much older with the birth of her now 6 year old daughter. The world had aged her, making her look much older than twenty. But she came to see the children she had birthed but could no longer afford to care for. She treated them with love, bringing them treats and playing games the entire two hours of the visit. She was the only mother to show up. Still hope lingered for the other children, never giving up on the parents who seemed to give up on them.
They became onlookers to the love between the one mother and her children. Bryan sat on the steps, his head resting in his hands. He was probably the most excited to see his mother that day. It pained me to see him distraught as he was. The steps quickly filled with the other children watching what fun kids can have with their parents. Some tried to join the games; others just wore their emotions on their sad faces.
Cindy and Maryuri finished a game of tag with their mother in the small pavilion. Soon after they left, I became the Papi. Daniela wanted to play the same game. She laughed like she hadn’t a care in the world. I tried to fill in some shoes that I wasn’t sure would fit me. Simple games filled these troubled faces with joy. We substituted in as father and mother figures where they were absent. To comfort these heavy hearts was to be comforted. God used us when the kids needed us most.