Tag Archives: orphanage

Rescued

3 Replies

The phone rang, and my hand groped around the bedside table for it. With the phone in hand, I turned on the light, squinting at the clock. Who would call at 3:00 am?

“Halo,” I said in a croaky voice.

“Is this Shadow of His Wings?” a woman asked.

“Yes, it is,” I responded.

“This is the children’s court in Villa Nueva. We have rescued three children who need a safe place to stay,” explained the woman.

Waking up slowly, I decided this had to be a joke. We had never received calls from the court during the night, and I didn’t even know if they had a court in Villa Nueva. “I didn’t realize you folks worked during the night,” I replied, fishing for the jokester to come forth.

“Señora Bishop, we work at all hours, depending on the need. These three children, ages 2, 7, and 8, are in need of a place to stay while there is an investigation. Can we bring them to your orphanage?”

Still not convinced that this woman was serious, I decided it was best to go along with her. “Yes, of course, we will take them. When can we expect them to be here?”

In my mind, I figured we had at least three hours to prepare for them, because it was a three-hour drive from the City. Since this case would require official documents, I could add another couple of hours.

The court secretary committed only to the fact that it would be an early morning arrival, thanked me, and then hung up. I sat in bed wondering who would joke about something like this. If true, it had to be a serious situation for a middle-of-the-night call. I imagined several horrific scenarios that may have prompted it. Unable to sleep the rest of the night, I called our social worker before the sun came up, so she could prepare for the girls. She also thought it might be a joke, but agreed that we needed to treat this circumstance as true.

The police and court official drove through the gate of Shadow of His Wings at nine in the morning. We stood at the door of the office, waiting to meet the rescued girls. My heart felt pain when I saw these dirty, tired girls. The oldest one looked at me with fear. Her face was pale, and her eyes full of tears. The other two seemed to be tranquil, but I knew shock could appear that way.

“Lord protect these little ones, and fill their hearts with peace,” I prayed. I thought of their ages and the stories we’ve heard regarding the other children who had joined our family. However, this was one story I wasn’t prepared for.

Questioning God’s Calling

1 Reply

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.

The Police Visit

1 Reply

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.

The Court System

Leave a reply

We became a legal orphanage, prepared it to rescue children from the streets, and nothing happened. The courts did not know of our existence, and it became our responsibility to get the name of the orphanage into the court system. We sent out invitations to judges, social workers, and court officials to an open house. We invited them to view the facility, listen to our vision for the children, ask questions, and make comments. Since I couldn’t do much communicating, I shyly stood behind Joanne with a big welcoming smile for the few women who responded. The introduction process to our mission worked, and the calls for child placement began to pour in.

At this time in Guatemala, the government changed the process for putting children in orphanages. Due to illegal adoptions and corruption, all children were now processed through the court system. The old process allowed a homeless child to be placed into a Home without any question of legality. But now, for the security and safety of the orphaned and abandoned children, a stricter custody process was implemented. Learning the policies and procedures of the court system in working with children moved to the top of my list. Lord, I don’t know how to pass this obstacle without your help. Send me the people I need to show me the way through this third-world system, and give me the ability to comprehend the Spanish.

The call from the court came, and my heart jumped. They had a thirteen-year-old girl named Xiomara*. Could we come to the court and pick her up? With plans in place, a board member, our Spanish helper, and I went to the court. Taken back by the number of people who lined the walls waiting for their turn with the judge, I kept telling myself that with God’s help we could do this. The noise of screaming kids and loud voices bounced off the concrete-block walls, and the court official had to yell the name of the next person to enter the offices. I held tightly to the documents that showed the legality of the orphanage and that we had government approval. It took effort to get the attention of the court official within the mob, but in a short period of time, I had a court order for temporary custody in one hand and the hand of Xiomara in the other. I floated out of the building thinking that we had reached a major goal. We had our first official girl!

We returned to the orphanage, and later that afternoon we received a second call for two more girls—sisters. My last visit to the courts had been successful, and I knew this one would be too. I didn’t realize these trips would be filled with emotion. I walked into the office of the magistrate (changed to the title of “judge” a year later), and my eyes swept the scene in front of me. Two girls tightly held each other as they sobbed. On the other side of the magistrate’s desk appeared to be family members also crying and moaning. I glanced at the magistrate, who nodded in the direction of the girls. I immediately put my arms around them, pulling them into a hug. Their response broke my heart as they literally clung to me.

I found out that the mother had brought Lorena* and Mari* to the court because of sexual abuse from her boyfriend. The unsuspecting girls did not know the reason for the “visit” to the court. Right before I walked into the room, the magistrate had told them they would have a new home with us. Lord, have mercy on these children. They are the victims, and I see the pain in their eyes. With heavy hearts, the girls and I went to the orphanage, where we began intense counseling.

Still wired from the experience of the day, I evaluated my emotions. I had felt so prepared to work with these children. I desired to help them feel that they were now part of a family. Suddenly, I felt very inadequate. How could this mother give up her children for a boyfriend? This showed such rejection. How would I help bring healing into these three lives that I was now responsible for? The Lord reminded me of the power of love. These abandoned children needed to feel that love and know that they were safe. They needed to know about God’s plan for their lives.

*Names have been changed.