I stepped out of the station wagon, hot sun on my face. Squint, look up at the white building. I recognize this place.
I follow Hannah past the main doors, around to the entrance at the back. Snap a picture or two.
We pop up the short flight of stairs, and a little face grins back at me. Paw Ka Taw.
He’s been moved to a bed in the hallway. He’s sitting there with his elbows on his knees, right foot bandaged all up and looking much himself again. Seems that he’ll be able to come home on Monday.
And then someone gets my attention. “Heidi, come look.”
I wander into the main ward and over to a bed. There’s a crowd of people there, looking at the patient. As I approach and catch sight of the figure on the bed, I have to shake myself. Is that real?
She’s so small. So fragile. She’s sleeping—and she looks fake. Like a baby doll; she’s so tiny and perfect. She’s a few days old.
Her mother was a friend of Naw Da Blet.
Yes, I said was.
A condition before birth that was too progressed to reverse took the mother’s life when the baby was born. She could’ve been helped if they’d come out of Burma sooner. Instead, she died in Mae Sot, giving life to her first child.
She was 17.
The father? He’s gone: back to Burma. The baby has been given to another family who will raise her as their own.
I didn’t stay long. Long enough to feel a tug at my heart, long enough to realize that the girl who gave her life for this tiny one was two years younger than me…
Long enough to know that these people need help. So much.
This shouldn’t happen. It shouldn’t.
And I look heavenward. Lord God in Heaven, can I come back? Let me come back someday…let me come, let me help… Let my arms hold a child like that…
I don’t deserve it.
But then, if He’ll let me, I’ll do it.
I look toward America, saturated with fullness of bread, idleness, and feeling “in need of nothing.”
The words to a familiar song ring in my head… “Will my friends obey Him also? Or will I be the only one?”
Will you? Will you come? Will you go where He calls?
It’s the destiny of little ones like this that may hang in the balance on your decision.
Don’t turn away from a privilege like this.
You may hold in your hands a life…
What will you do?