Tag Archives: Justice

Deserved Justice Continued Part 3

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My thoughts went down many avenues as I watched this fourteen-year-old girl, who had suffered atrocities that left scars on her body and mind. Who bore the responsibility of the damage done? Would Ana* recover and be able to function normally? Is she locked up inside of her head and not able to communicate with us? Question after question came and went as I struggled within myself. I wanted to do more to help her find her identity and come into healing.

I took Ana to a neurologist in Guatemala City, and he explained that she had a normal brain, but not all of it was functioning. He said he had seen many cases like hers during his time as a doctor in Guatemala. I hung on to every word he said, trying to absorb any helpful information. I never expected to hear, “In cases like this, the survival instinct is for protection, and a part of the brain turns off. That is simple layman language for what happens.”

“What can be done to help her?” I asked, getting ready to write down the recommendations.

“At this point, there is nothing you can do,” he replied.

“Then you don’t have any suggestions as to how we can help Ana?” I probed.

“There is an institute for the mentally handicapped that is run by the government.”

His comment made me sick to my stomach. I walked away from the meeting feeling like a door had slammed in my face. What would we do with a fourteen-year-old who needed the care as if she were four? What about justice for this child who became a victim because of sinful and selfish people? Could her family, a mother or someone, be out there looking for her? What thoughts swirled in the mind of this girl? A part of me wanted to protect her and keep her in the Home. Another part of me knew how difficult it would be to allow her to stay, but a mental institution would not be the answer. Ana deserved more than life in such a place. I felt torn and frustrated.

As I drove us back to the Shadow of His Wings Orphanage, I prayed, “Lord, where do we go from here. Show us the way. I don’t know how we can help her, but I know she didn’t come to us by accident. Help us to know the plan.” Ana watched me and gave me a smile. Excitement showed in her face because she got to go someplace in the car with Mama Carroll—a big treat in her eyes. I smiled back. There had to be a way to work all of this out. I trusted the Lord to bring out the answer.

*Name has been changed.

Deserved Justice Continued

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The girl whom we named Ana* clearly had mental and physical issues that needed immediate attention. With this situation being a new and huge dilemma for us, we followed what we thought to be the obvious route of wisdom. I took Ana to a missionary dentist, and after the exam, he said that her teeth indicated that she was about fourteen years old. We thought she would be a couple years younger than that. I realized that girls were smaller and looked younger than their age when they were nutritionally deprived in their early development—such was the case with Ana.

I watched Ana settle in with our family, and she showed the maturity of a toddler. She needed help with any type of activity, including taking a shower or brushing her teeth. The girls taught her to eat with a spoon or a fork, but she frequently used her fingers. This girl had deep needs, and I spent much time pondering what we could do with our limited staff and abilities. I knew the love and security she felt with us would influence her life, but I wanted to see healing. We needed to know what damaged her brain function.

“Ana, it is time to go upstairs and get ready for bed.” Ana looked at me and back at the floor but didn’t make any move to get off of the couch. “Come on, Ana. It is time to go upstairs.” All of the other girls had left for their bedrooms, but Ana didn’t budge. I took her arm and nudged her toward the stairs but felt solid resistance. I realized that “stubborn as a mule” needed to be added to the list of issues we would be facing. I lifted her face so I could look into her eyes, but she refused to connect with mine. “Ana, you are God’s beautiful creation. He loves you, and we love you. He brought you to our home so you would be safe and be part of this family. Part of being in a family requires obedience. I’m asking you to be obedient to me and go upstairs.” I paused and then prayed for the Lord to help Ana to understand what she needed to do and act on it. I didn’t know if she understood my words, but she rose off of the couch and, as slow as a turtle, moved up the stairs to her bedroom.

The court psychologist did not get anywhere with Ana during her first visit. We started out with me in the room and then decided it would be better for me to be out of sight. None of that made a difference, and Ana refused to give any type of response. She sat in her usual position, with her eyes looking downward and her bottom lip sticking out. I’m sure the psychologist tried every trick in the book to document some sort of action, but Ana portrayed a frozen statue. We were told that Ana didn’t need to come back for any more psychological appointments. The psychologist said that putting her in a mental institute would be the best option for her.

No, Lord, she can’t go to one of those horrible places.This isn’t justice! My heart sank. I had hoped that something would help unravel the mystery about Ana. I left the appointment with her, hand-in-hand, and with disappointment in my heart.

Next, we made an appointment for her to meet with a brain specialist in Guatemala City. Having a professional evaluate her brain function would surely shed some light on how we could help this young girl. I looked forward to this time with great anticipation.

*Name has been changed.

Deserved Justice

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The police came late one evening with a strange acting girl. I immediately knew our experiences were about to expand. About twelve-years-old, her eyes darted around the room like a wild animal. She quivered and whimpered in fear as I held her. After many minutes of softly spoken words, I could feel her calming down. She stopped shaking and making noises, but she wouldn’t let go of me. Oh Lord, help this child. I don’t know what she needs, but it is more than the normal love and assurance.

Trying to keep the atmosphere normal for the other children, I introduced her to the girls. They smiled with greetings, but she responded with a lowered head, bottom lip pushed out, and eyes to the floor. With my pushing and the house mother’s gentle pulling, she went upstairs for the routine clean-up. At that time, there would be notes taken of any scars, wounds or physical signs that would alert us to her past situation. We needed documentation for the court of what possible abuses she might have endured before coming to Shadow of His Wings Orphanage.

After the girl had left, the children gathered around me looking for information. “What’s her name?” Lorena asked. “Why is she acting weird?” questioned Josselin.

My head buzzed with similar questions. Who was this child and what was her story? How could we minister to what all she needed? What if we can’t take care of her? “Kids, we don’t have any information about her and no name. Maybe she will tell us her name when she feels safe with us. Meanwhile, show her love and help her to know we are here to help her, not hurt her. She shouldn’t be alone, so I’m asking for each of you to take turns staying with her.”

The next day we found that the police record said that this child suffered as a victim of sexual abuse. They found her alone in a hotel room in women’s black lingerie. Without identification or contact information and her inability to communicate, there were no clues to who she was or where she lived. The girls asked her about her name, but the response of sounds didn’t make sense. However, listening to the sounds that she made, the girls decided she should be called Ana* and Ana she became.

We thought mentally handicapped described her state of mind because she would say a few words that made sense while chattering unintelligently. She would imitate and repeat one or two words that the girls said. When I looked at her, I couldn’t see the features of someone mentally handicapped. I knew this child had suffered greatly, and we needed to find out how we could to help her mentally, physically, and spiritually. The Lord said He would give us wisdom when we needed it, and I prayed for the flood gates of wisdom to open. This life had been tossed in the trash, and Ana deserved justice and love. The path I saw ahead of us went into unknown territory while the learning curve went up sharply. Where to begin, became the number one question in my mind.