Guest Post: The Fate of the Orphan

Editor's Note: Today I have a wonderful post for you written by my very new sister-in-law, Lana! Lana is passionate about orphan care and has gone on multiple trips to India to work with an orphanage there. She just got back from a trip to Mexico where she was better trained and equipped to love on these little ones—the least of these. Lana is sassy and always has a good come-back, but she is also caring and has a huge heart. I have so enjoyed getting to know Lana better over the last year or so—from sleeping in a twin bed when we first met, to thrifting and fighting over who gets the cute dress, I really do feel like she's a sister! Let's just say, I'll be one sad girl if God calls Lana to India long-term... Illinois is MUCH closer!

The Fate of the Orphan

A young girl taps at my arm, pleading with me to look her way. Without looking, I know her brightly colored dress is heavily worn and covered with dirt from life on the street. 

My eyes never shift from their forward gaze. She is persistent. Her dull brown eyes pierce through her unkept hair; locked on my face, searching for the slightest twitch or reaction. 

I know I cannot waver from my stone-like stature. 

//photo via Lana Douglas, 1987 Photography

This girl is most likely not begging for herself, but rather is forced to by her “owner” – for all intensive purposes, a pimp. Any money I give to her will only support his greed and cause more children to befall her dire fate. 

The seconds crawl by like hours. She continues to tap my elbow, motioning to her mouth to indicate that she is hungry and needs food.

Still, I do not flinch. Inside my resolve is crumbling. 

She is not just a faceless child as my exterior suggests. She is my sister, my daughter, the lost sheep, the innocent left unprotected.

With each touch of her tiny hand my heart fractures a little more – hers is the fate of the orphan.

At her final plea with no change in the indifferent statue, she moves on to the next rickshaw; hoping to pay her employer for what should have been freely provided. The moment she is out of reach the statue falls away.

I did not give her anything, but she still walked away with a part of my soul.