Instant Perspective, Part Two

Those were the words that caused me to step off my elliptical, grab the nearest box of tissues and collapse into a puddle of snot and tears in front of my television. A fourteen-year-old girl in Guatemala, who lived in a tiny orphanage, was telling her prospective adoptive parents about her dreams. Dreams that did not include money, fame or success. Dreams that didn’t even include school, jobs or fulfillment. Dreams that simply included the very basic of needs…love and food.

Prior to living in an orphanage, this little girl lived In a one room metal house with her fourteen cousins and her aunt. Her one-room metal house was about the same size as my kitchen. Her aunt took her in because her mother couldn’t afford to feed her. Her aunt worked all day at a fruit stand to feed fourteen children. Her aunt could no longer feed all fourteen children on a fruit-stand salary, so the oldest had to go live in an orphanage.

There was so much wrong with this moment, I couldn’t even articulate it.

The girl’s mother could not feed her children—while I live in a country so morbidly obese that people actually pay for companies to portion out their food and deliver it to their door.

The girl’s aunt crammed fourteen kids into a metal house—while I wonder if we need to move to a new home so each of my kids will have his own bathroom, walk-in closet and built-in desk.

The tiny house had metal walls and dirt floors—while I contemplate updating my brass fixtures and Berber carpet with something more fashionable.

It’s one thing to hear about 143 million orphans in the world. It’s another thing entirely to look into the face of one. That day, as I sat in my finished basement of my 4000 square foot home, this little orphan girl came through the television, looked me in the eyes and ruined my heart.

And Jesus said, “Sandy, you must do something.”

I’m not a perfect parent, but I do have a lot of love. And I may not be the best cook, but we have so much food that I often have to throw it out because it goes bad before we can eat it all.

I may need to temporarily shelf my dream of writing so I can fulfill a child’s dream for family.

That was the day I knew that I may not be able to singlehandedly stop homelessness, poverty and disease, but I can do something. I can take in ONE orphan. I can stop poverty for ONE child.

And so I did.