Really really small for her age, Abi holds her ground in the neighborhood. She's quiet, but makes her presence in the room and on the dirt road known. Her smile is captivating, her eyes big and brown - her personality: untrusting. She looks at you like you with an distrust and vulnerability that no one should have, especially at 4 years old.
A few months ago her mom's heart and lung disease began to worsen, after being hospitalized, I began to ask what would happen to Kati, Abi and Lucia, the 3 youngest children in the large family. The oldest brother, 20 years old, said he would take care of them. I rested assured that he would do his best.
Today, Abi's mom is back in the hospital, her oldest sister removed from the home and sent to live with a grandmother in another part of the city so she could continue attending school. Another family has moved into the home where Abi lives and in the past couple of weeks that they've been there, I've seen her quality of life deteriorating rapidly.
Tonight, she sat on my lap, an ice block with a bird's nest of hair resting on top of her head and an odor that I can't begin to describe. She's another child that has fallen between the cracks, another precious life that no one wants...
Pray for Abi.
3 comments:
Your blog should come with a Kleenex warning at the top. Seriously I am nearly about to explode. This is so sad! I'm praying for her.
oh Stephanie my heart breaks for all of them, I'm happy Kati is still going to school but it must be hard for her to be away from her sisters. I'm praying for all 8 of them, God has not forgotten them, I only saw them a couple of times and theire face are still fresh in my mind.
Mom
I know what you mean. There is something in the face of poverty that makes me angry...it's the loss of dignity in adults who can't provide for their families and have to sit in a dirty bundle of disgrace on street corners begging for food from people who have too much and hold on to it too tightly. It's the life children have that's no life at all, without fun, without freedom to play and laugh and feel loved and cared for, instead of carrying around babies on their hips and skulking around streets trying to get a few scraps of food and hiding from abusive or neglectful family. I want to punch someone in the face when I see that but Poverty isn't anything you can grasp. It makes me feel so powerless I could cry. So let's hug them, ok? And for a few seconds try to give them back a bit of what's lost. And blow bubbles for them in the streets. Love you xo
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