The Face of Hope

--posted by Regina

I’m starting to recognize the look of extreme hunger—starvation, if you will. Huge eyes stare out of a face devoid of emotion. Body movements are slow and calculated—energy is conserved for more important matters, like breathing. This hopelessness was written on our little Haitian girl’s face nine years ago, and I’m seeing it again in children’s eyes here in Mozambique.

Last month, xenophobia in South Africa sent 40,000 Mozambicans living there pouring back over the border—leaving their hopes for a better livelihood and opting instead for the relative safety of their impoverished home country. In a land devastated first by civil war and now by AIDS, this only adds to the staggering numbers of needy children. All Nations Mozambique, run by South Africans Pieter and Rika Boersma, provides two family-style baby houses near Maputo. I am privileged to spend six weeks investing in these babies’ lives. Let me introduce you to one of them:

Hawa arrived at the baby house three weeks ago, wearing the stoic face of hunger. Although she is almost three years old, she weighed in at 17 pounds. Claw-like hands dangle at the ends of arms that are frighteningly thin. When I pick her up, I instinctively move very slowly—the ribs so close beneath her skin feel terribly fragile. Her hair is light and reddish, another indication of severe malnutrition.

AIDS has bulldozed through Hawa’s family. Her father succumbed recently to the disease, leaving behind a sick wife (20-year old Felizmina) and three children. And now Hawa’s frail little body shows the stark effects of the illness. Pieter and Rika gave Felizmina food for the healthy children at home, offered her a jewelry-making class that could lead to a job, and received Hawa into their house—mom’s face brightened considerably. Smiling now, she turned to go, embracing every one present except her little daughter (who now has a new home). As Pieter says, “She already abandoned Hawa long ago.” I can’t pretend to understand these things—maybe detachment is the only coping mechanism left to her.

Hawa is now on anti-retroviral drugs, beginning an upward journey. Because she is still so weak, I’ve had the privilege of being her “mom”, giving her special attention. She sleeps beside me at night, her little hands grasping to find mine in the dark.

What excitement to see the first smiles, to hear her impish giggles as she splashes me at bathtime! It will take time to erase that impassive mask completely, but there is hope for Hawa, as evidenced by many of the other children who came here severely malnourished but are now flourishing. These are lives literally being saved, these are children who, God willing, will one day be men and women of integrity, transformed by the love of Jesus and influencing Mozambique for the kingdom.

(For more information about All Nations baby houses in Mozambique, see http://www.allnationsmozambique.com/.