Category Archives: Shadow of His Wings

The orphanage in Monjas, Jalapa, Guatemala

Questioning God’s Calling

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The administrative requirements of Shadow of His Wings Orphanage multiplied, along with the requirements of being the mother of this growing family. Legally, each girl was required to attend three audiences at the children’s court, which fell on my plate. There were doctor appointments, visits to the psychologist, the purchase of clothes and shoes, the preparation of menus and the weekly shopping at the Guatemalan market and supermarket, banking requirements, the purchase of school supplies, and the list went on. I lived with these kids on duty 24-7, with little time away for rest. Each day seemed to go by filled with the same pressures. I began questioning my calling.

The problems grew with the size of the family. “Mama Carroll, Josselin* wore my shoes when I told her three times that she could not use them,” whined Maritza*.

“Maria* is in the bedroom crying because Ester* hit her again.”

Lorena* decided she wanted to wear a short revealing t-shirt. She refused to take it off, and it ended up being a battle to break through her stubbornness.

Two girls were caught in bed with each other in inappropriate actions. This is a common occurrence in orphanages, and we added bed-checks to our list of night-time duties.

One girl took another girl’s underwear off the clothesline and threw them over the wall. Of course, nobody knew who did it.

Leti* decided she didn’t have to obey any of the rules and pushed her idea by eating supper in her bedroom. I marched in and declared, “Leti, you are part of this family, and you will eat with this family.” After a few minutes of glaring at each other, she picked up her plate and cup and moved to the kitchen table, to the quiet snickers of the other girls.

Constant problems weighed me down in my tired frame of mind, to the point that I began to wonder if I needed to go back to the States. Perhaps I had overlooked what God had said to me. I reached out for counseling, and the message came back the same, “Get some rest.” How does one do that with such a huge responsibility? I dug in my heels, determined to be the mother of these children and still carry out the duties for the orphanage. I just needed to put my nose to the grindstone, and with the help of others, we could make a difference in the lives of these children.

I later learned that putting one’s nose to the grindstone does not equal success.

*Names have been changed.

Lesson to Learn

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We witnessed the effects of the atrocities these children had endured before they entered the Home. At times anger rose in me because of the scars on the children left by wicked actions. Generally, I could keep my emotions under control, but then another hurting girl came to us.

An ambulance pulled up to the front gate, and a medical assistant helped an eight-year-old walk into the house, dressed in typical Mayan clothes. Her father had raped Evelyn*, and her pelvic bone had been broken. Rushed to the emergency room, this thin child had surgery to repair the damage. Oh, Lord, how can she survive such a horrible act against her nutritionally deprived body. We immediately gave her our welcome greetings and gentle hugs. What I saw surprised me. She responded with smiles, as her warm heart reached out to us. This innocent child, fresh out of the hospital and barely walking, just wanted our love.

Joanne and I looked at each other with silent communication. We left Evelyn with the lady who would show her around the home, bathe her, and get her clean clothes. We hurried down to the apartment, looked at each other, and burst out bawling as we held each other. Emotionally, we faced tough times as each child came into the orphanage, but this little one broke our hearts, knowing what she had endured.

I think her smile and friendliness made more anger rise in me. How could anybody take advantage of someone so sweet and cause so much physical and mental damage? If I were judge and jury, I would have found a machete and made sure the father never functioned in such a horrible way again. He would be missing body parts. Thankfully, those thoughts only stayed with me a short time. I quickly realized that I had another lesson to learn. I reminded myself that I functioned in the Home for the children and not for revenge in the name of justice. I needed to let go and put my attention on the healing process of the girls.

I never did find out if the father had been arrested and convicted for what he did to his daughter. The wheels of justice turn differently in Guatemala. Years ago, not many men were arrested for sexual assault, but that is slowly changing. Later, the court gave custody to Evelyn’s mother, and she took her daughter to her grandmother’s home, where she resided in a town close to the coast—a long distance from the residence of the father.

It still jerks at my heart when I picture small and thin Evelyn being taken out of that ambulance with a smile on her face, because she knew she had a refuge in Shadow of His Wings. The good news is that all will be dealt with through the justice of the Lord. I’m thankful for the time we had with Evelyn, where she experienced love and family while she healed.

*Name has been changed.

Parasite Invasion

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“Mama Carroll, come quick! Myra* needs your help.” I rushed into the bathroom expecting to see Myra vomiting. Instead, she faced me with her pants around her ankles and a panicked look in her eyes.

“Myra, what is the problem?” I asked.

“I have a worm,” her soft voice replied.

“A what?” I asked, not sure I comprehended the Spanish word gusano.

Myra bent over and fully mooned me, revealing a round worm trying to make its way out of her body. With no time to think, I tore off some toilet tissue, grabbed ahold of that creature, and yanked it out. Oh, please, don’t let there be more. After a few minutes, I called our nurse, and she confirmed there would be more. I needed to get Myra on parasite medication to kill the others (yes, death to those ugly things). She also told me that while the medication worked, the worms would try to exit the body through any opening possible. Now that grossed me out. I even got a detailed review of what that looked like. Lord, I never wanted to be a nurse. I don’t know if I can handle this. (The Lord told me that I already had done it.) I followed the nurse’s orders and, thankfully, didn’t have to repeat this performance. I became a hero in the eyes of the girls that day, but I sure didn’t feel like one.

The calmness I saw in Myra through all of this with the round worms reminded me of what these girls are subjected to in this third-world country. Parasites are an everyday part of their lives. Many of them don’t have the option to take the medication necessary to kill the living creatures because of the lack of money.

Parasites are picked up in many ways: in the dust/dirt, in water, on fruits and vegetables, or from poor sanitation and hygiene. There are parasites everywhere in this little country the size of Tennessee. Prevention isn’t available to these girls, because they are already walking invitations for infestation. They deal with weakened immune systems, malnutrition, insect bites, and contact with animal feces. Missionaries learn to spend a lot of time washing hands and disinfecting every fruit and vegetable. Drinking filtered water is a must. After all of the precautions, those nasty critters still find a way to get into bodies and cause serious physical complications.

I had only been in Guatemala for two weeks when what my Granny called “the green apple two-step” hit me. I rarely have fevers, but that came next. I called for help and received the necessary medication to clean out my system. I suffered the side effects of the medicine, moaning and groaning, but I reminded myself that the kids in this country usually live as a host for these parasites their whole short lives. I’ve had to resort often to medication, and it has become a way of life for me. Instead of fretting, I’m thankful for the help when faced with those times.

The time with Myra, and the personal experiences I’ve endured in similar situations, helped me to resolve that the children who came to Shadow of His Wings would be cleansed in every way possible. When a new child entered the orphanage, he or she automatically received the medication to get rid of any parasite habitation. If a child had symptoms of stomach pain, diarrhea, and fever, we headed to the pharmacy for parasite medication. That problem took first place at the top of the check list, with flu and food poisoning under it. Nobody should have to endure the torture these creatures can inflict, but we saw victory with a little white pill.
Name has been changed.

More Men With Guns

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Who would have guessed that there would be another adventure with men and guns?

The “Hawaii Five-O” scene played out when a shiny sports car zoomed up within inches of the front gate of the orphanage. Out jumped two men wearing black pilot-type sunglasses and dressy business suits. They adjusted their jackets as they scrutinized the area, as if they expected to be attacked at any moment. The cook and I watched from the kitchen window, puzzled, but immediately concerned. We hadn’t been notified of anybody coming for a visit. Were they coming to the orphanage? A tapping on the gate with keys answered that question, so with a prayer, the cook and I went to the gate. One of the men said they wanted to see one of the children—Lila*. I explained that the children were in school, but they insisted on coming into the house anyway. No way am I letting you past this gate. They must have heard my thoughts because one of the men handed me a court document giving them permission to come visit the orphanage. I had to honor the order. They came into the kitchen and looked into the living room, as if they were checking out a place for rental. It confused me, because I didn’t know what they were looking for, and they didn’t say a word. One went down the hall to the bedroom, and the other one leaned forward looking out the picture window. A bulge of his gun showed under his jacket. It set my heart racing. Were they mafia or drug lords? Keep us covered with your protection, Lord. I knew that if one had a gun, so did the other. However, after the quick perusal around the house, they seemed satisfied with what they saw. They said adios and left as quickly as they came. That stirred the cook and me up really well that day, but the story wasn’t over.

We kept the official document that gave these men permission to see the child, and it turned out to be a forgery. The court had no record of this document. A few weeks later, the court called for an audience and requested that we bring Lila in on a particular day. The man who had given me the false document turned out to be the child’s uncle, and he spoke English. He sure didn’t use it at our first visit. The judge acted as if the false document didn’t exist. In the process of the court audience, the judge stated that the uncle would be given custody of Lila. After the audience, I went over to him and asked him why he lied to me with the forged paper. He just smiled, took the hand of his niece, and left. I felt thankful that no harm had come to anybody, but I was disturbed at the wide range of corruption in this country and its affect in the lives of the children. This may or may not have been a case of bribery, but it added another dimension to what we faced in the work of the orphanage.

Thankfulness filled my heart for God’s protection. This story could have gone in a different direction, but we put God in control, and He proved His faithfulness to us once again. I grew in trust with each experience, and there were many more coming my way.

*Name has been changed.