Why I do what I do--

Joshua

Sarah

Joe

Blessed

Jeremiah

Timothy

One of the lucky ones.

Today was one of those days that didn't go as planned, but I know I was right where I was supposed to be.

I stopped in to check on Korpu at her foster home. She is looking great! I've never seen her so animated. She greeted us with a big smile, is communicating with the Liberian head-bob and even "busting" (equivalent to an American high-five). As I walked up to the house all the neighborhood children were chanting "Korpu's Ma, Korpu's Ma," but when it came down to it she quickly chose to be in the arms of her new Ma. I take that as a good sign that she is comfortable and at home. It was very encouraging to see her adjusting so well.

As we were getting ready to leave, another foster mom in the community asked me to look at one of her girls. This community has several homes that have taken in foster children with special needs. I had been to her home before and met most of the children, but I was not prepared for what I was about to find. The woman carried out a tiny, cross-eyed girl. She said the girl was two years old, but she probably weighed less than 10 pounds. As she undressed her, every bone in her body was evident, poking through her thin, fragile skin-- every individual rib could be traced. Then she proceeded to show me sore after sore on her body. She thought they were abscesses, even a local clinic had been treating them that way, but I quickly recognized them as bedsores. The one on the back of her head went down to the bone.

I stood in this room, surrounded by staring women and children from the community, holding this almost alien looking, yet precious girl and knew something needed to be done. Now. A friend who is a doctor working at a local hospital had joined me for the afternoon. I looked at her and asked what she thought we should do. Without missing a step she confirmed that we needed to get her to a hospital where she could get nutrition, antibiotics and wound care.

Putting aside our agenda for the afternoon we loaded up the girl and her foster Ma and made our way to a nearby Doctor's Without Borders hospital. They ushered us straight back and within minutes the PA on duty had started the admission process. All I could do as we sat in the ER was try and comfort this girl with a gentle caress of her temple. And pray. Too much touch seemed to overstimulate her, she didn't even have the strength to cry.

Tonight she is laying on a bed in a room with probably 8 other children fighting similar circumstances. I want to blame someone. There should be no excuse for a tiny, helpless girl to be suffering so much. Someone should have done something sooner. I had even been there before, why didn't I notice? I know that the foster mom loves her and has been caring for her to the best of her ability and knowledge. But still she was in this devastating condition.

So I am left with the reminder that this is still Liberia. Tragic, preventable things happen here everyday. And this girl is actually one of the lucky ones.