After a whirlwind of activities, we located a house, leapt into the process of getting governmental approval, found financial support, and purchased the necessities to establish a home. The top priority for myself was Spanish school. Then I found myself in an unexpected situation.

Joanne arranged to meet a teenager named Leti,* an orphan, who had been sexually abused by a family member and had a baby as a result of that abuse. Joanne found out about Leti through Leti’s cousin and knew she needed to check out the situation. She found a starving mother with a very sick and undernourished baby. Joanne, full of compassion, asked me, “Would you meet with her and consider taking her and the baby into the Home as our first children?”

I knew what my answer would be before we met, and Leti’s story confirmed it as she tearfully told of being ostracized by her family. Leti, at the age of sixteen, gave birth to Jorge in the dirty village hospital. Her aunt and other family members told her she could not put her baby up for adoption, but they refused to help her in any way. Leti had to find her own way home after the birth of the baby and didn’t even have diapers or clothes for Jorge. She wrapped him in some of her raggedy clothes and an old blanket. Leti had to find or beg for food, while those around her pretended that she didn’t exist. I knelt down in front of this sixteen-year-old girl, took her in my arms, and cried with her. Oh, Lord, this is a prime example of desperation. May we have the opportunity to help her?

At this point, it didn’t matter that I didn’t understand much Spanish. Isn’t love the universal language? The hurt and pain that I saw in Leti’s eyes bore into my soul. Little Jorge, full of giggles, grabbed my heart in seconds. Yes, we established Shadow of His Wings to be a home for girls, but this exception needed to be made. At Leti’s age, she could legally decide where she wanted to live. With all of the bases covered, Leti and Jorge became the first children in Shadow of His Wings Orphanage.

The decision for me to be the housemother for any girls who came into the Home seemed easy to make. I wanted to be in that position even though I lacked the language ability. God called me to this, and I trusted Him to help me learn Spanish. I found myself again stepping off a plank into the unknown. Joanne fit in perfectly with her administrative and Spanish-speaking abilities. All things are possible with God and with His help. I knew we could manage this orphanage.

We hired a cook and a housekeeper, allowing me to focus on Leti and the language studies. With everything in place, Jorge and Leti moved in.

Early one evening, I heard ten month old Jorge screaming, and I hurried across the hall to Leti’s bedroom. “Leti, open the door, please.” I heard the click of the lock and entered into the room. Sobbing, Jorge sat on the changing table with a red swollen lip. I need control, Lord. Please help me remain calm. “Leti, you do not hit a baby.” Leti, refusing to look at me, kept herself busy by rolling up the soiled diaper to throw in the garbage. “Leti, look at me,” I demanded. She slowly turned her dark eyes to me with a smirk on her face. I ground out the words again, “You do not hit a baby, and we will talk about this later.” I reached out to Jorge, who leaped into my arms. I took him into my room, while I cooled down.

The honeymoon period came to an abrupt halt, as I faced the reality that this young mother had never experienced the love and care of people around her. She was a child taking care of a baby without any positive examples of how this should be done. My life took an abrupt turn in the learning curve, as I faced the responsibility of being a mother figure to one who already showed resistance to correction.

*Names have been changed.