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No Will to Live

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I received a call from the court for a young girl ready to leave the hospital. Although I had difficulty understanding Spanish over the phone, I did pick up the idea that this girl had kidney problems. Without thinking about what I said, the word “yes” jumped out of my mouth. We would take her into the Home. Then I stood on the outside steps, after the conversation, in shock of what I had just committed to. Lord, this physical problem will require more than what we are able to do. Why did I say yes? For whatever reason, I felt that Sara* needed to live with us. Father, I will be obedient to this, but You will need to work out all of the details.

She stood before me with short black hair, dark eyes that lacked luster, chubby cheeks, and a distended abdomen. I ached to hug her and ease some of the pain I saw in her eyes, but when I tried, she pulled back. Lord, this one has been deeply hurt and needs to feel Your love and touch. “Sara, I am Mama Carroll, and this is your new home. There are several girls living here, and we are all part of a family. You are now part of that family too.” She responded with a slight smile. This one had walls around her heart.

Sara’s doctor sent some medication, bags of dialysis liquid, and instructions for doing the dialysis. Totally new to me, I ventured into a medical realm that I never wanted to be a part of. I would learn what I needed to help this ten-year-old girl. I could only imagine the suffering she had endured when her mother abandoned her in a hospital with the diagnosis of kidney failure. From there, Sara went to an orphanage that neglected her physical needs, and the consequences put her back into the hospital. Sara’s doctor wanted to adopt her as her own, but circumstances prevented that from happening. Rejection after rejection permeated the life of this little one, to the point that she didn’t even want to live. Could we break through those walls? Would we be able to provide the necessary medical care, which included dialysis four times a day? We don’t have any medical training to deal with peritoneal dialysis. I didn’t regret my decision to bring her into the Home, but I did know we could be facing dire circumstances if we couldn’t keep up with her medical needs. Driven to my knees, I pleaded with the Lord to make a way for Sara to live with us in health and in love.

Joanne met with Sara’s doctor, and the information she gave indicated that Sara could die at any time, and we needed to be prepared for it. Three of Sara’s friends from the hospital, who were on dialysis for one and a half years, had passed away. That would put Sara next. I wanted to shout out in protest, but instead I listened to the need for a plan if this were to happen. How would we deal with the other children? Dying wasn’t in my thoughts when I agreed to her coming to Shadow.

Legally, we would be responsible for any funeral and burial arrangements. We knew nothing about the Guatemalan regulations other than it all had to take place within seventy-two hours of her death. Joanne proceeded to get all of the information and planned to see about purchasing a cemetery plot. Meanwhile, I second-guessed my decision for her to live with us.

The children in the orphanage were familiar with death, because in this country, it is all around them. But we needed to protect them. I put us into this responsibility because of the decision I made about Sara. Lord, more than ever I need Your help with wisdom and the ability to take care of Sara. Please guide us in a plan for when Sara passes into eternity. if it happens, we need help so the children can adjust to such a painful event.

The Police Visit

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The day after we received the three girls, the court called about another thirteen-year-old who would be transferred from another orphanage into our Home. The administrator and friend of another orphanage had recommended us for custody. When she arrived, she looked like a beanpole with kinky matted hair and sad eyes. Paola reminded me of an abused kitten looking for someone to hold and pet her but ready to run in a minute.

I took a deep breath and looked at this growing family. I felt the overwhelming need in their lives for love and protection. I cried out to the Lord, because I knew I couldn’t give them all that they needed. The emotions I felt with the arrival of each one tore at my heart. I decided at that time that I could cry, and I didn’t need to be tough. I just needed to realize that the power and might came from the Lord Jesus Himself. I prayed a prayer that I would repeat over and over. Lord, do not let my heart be desensitized to what these children are feeling. I need to feel their pain so that I will stay motivated in helping them in any way you lead me.

Later, when in the kitchen, I heard screaming from the upstairs bedroom. I glanced out the kitchen window and saw a man and woman standing outside the gate. The Guatemalan helper went upstairs to deal with the girl who screamed, Xiomara*, while I went out to the front with our cook. Xiomara’s parents had found the orphanage and decided they wanted to visit with her. I explained that none of the children could receive visits until they had been in the Home for six weeks. The children needed time to adapt without any outside interference. I looked at the father and wondered why Xiomara needed to live with us, when he sported a big gold necklace around his neck and wore rings on his fingers, and both he and his wife were dressed well in modern clothes.

“If you don’t let us see our daughter, we will go to the police,” yelled the mother.

“I’m sorry, but I already explained that I can’t do that,” I calmly replied, even though I shook like a leaf and watched every movement they made. What if he has a gun? Lord, protect us. 

The couple left, and I breathed a sigh of relief, but that was short-lived. A short time later, I looked out the window and saw a lot of activity and eight policemen in front of the gate. Oh goodness, Lord! I think I’m outnumbered. Send more angels. You said you would give me what I need when I needed it. Show me the right things to say, Lord, and please keep me out of jail. I put on my bold face and walked out to meet the captain. He glanced up to see Xiomara in the bedroom window screaming, “Mama,” before someone moved her to another room.

Out of all the men, one wore an official-looking brimmed hat, so I went to greet him and the other men. When he introduced himself to me, he confirmed that he was the one in charge. My Spanish ability stretched beyond what I thought was capable. It took several minutes for me to communicate the situation and why the couple had to wait for six weeks before they could see their daughter. “Captain, Sir, they are the ones who took her to the court for placement in an orphanage, and now they want to see her before the allowed time.” I stood firm in what I said, and, in time, the captain saw our side. He told the parents that they would have to follow the policy of the Home.

Moving toward the car he said, “I will take them with me, and I assure you they will not come back to bother you. Thank you for what you are doing.” They all left, and I couldn’t get my legs to function to take me back into house. I think every bit of adrenaline had been used in my body. Lord, this whole orphanage idea is turning into quite the adventure. Am I right that more is coming this way? If I had truly known what was coming, I think I might have run the other way. Its good that the Lord doesn’t usually tell us in advance what His plan includes. I’m learning that it is better to take one day at a time.

*Name has been changed.