The sweet faces of Armenia

There are many days where it is difficult, what we do. We have grown to love the people in Armenia Bonito. We love the feel of it. We love the children, the adults, the interactions we have. I sometimes get so caught up in what we are doing that day that for some strange reason I forget where many of these kids come from. It's like looking at the night sky and seeing all the stars - night after night - until for some reason, whether it is a shooting star that crosses the sky, a bright constellation or whatever - you are suddenly reminded of the vastness and magnitude of the universe. This is where it is difficult - what we do. We love on children all the time, and once in awhile I am reminded by a look in their face, or their incessant calling of my name trying to get my attention, because it's the ONLY attention they get - that I am reminded of the lack of love or attention, or food, or clothing, or anything - that so many of the children are in. Lack of father figures, lack of the bare necessities like a shower, or soap, or even a hair brush. Oneida falls into that category. I know that we have blogged on her many times, but as we come near the end of this term, and seeing our future away from this place for a time, away from giving the love we give to these children, like Oneida, my heart is heavy. We are just over a month away from leaving, and my heart is burdened for these kids. Our team mates, the Clow's and the McCann's will still be here giving these children love and attention, which gives me some peace - especially for children like Oneida, but another - Vilma - will be leaving this place she calls home, and moving over an hour away to go live with her grandmother. I know this will happen while I am gone, and if I sit too long and think about it, my heart breaks. I will miss her. She has a special place in my heart. God has a plan, and I try and take comfort in that.

Oneida


Vilma