Written February 20th
We left the home in Gothatar early in the morning. As we tied our bags down to the top and piled bleary eyed into the van, we were surprised to find a small girl already in the van. As we began the trip to Chitwan, Dinesh began to talk to and comfort her. She explained that she had never been in a van, never traveled at such speed or such a distance. Prison Fellowship had pulled her from a prison where she lived as her mother served her sentence.
As we continued to bump down the mountain road in the minivan towards the children home in Chitwan, we pulled to the side of the road for an unexpected stop. Two small girls were ushered into the van, their faces pale and eyes full of fear. The door slammed close, and we continued down the road. Dinesh, our contact, explained their situation.
The sisters had been abandoned by their mother. Their father had died and their mother remarried. They had been left. They did not speak the national language of Nepali, but the language of their caste.
The magnitude of their situation gripped my heart. What a horrific past. How does a mother abandon her own daughters? What a tremendous future. One of the girls feel asleep clinging to Kelly’s hand. When we finally arrived to Chitwan, the girls experienced something new… love. They were immediately welcomed into a new family. The other nine girls of the home spent the next few days spending every waking moment with them. They were never alone, never without a hand to cling to. As my team lead worship and devotions at night, we sang songs about God’s endless, never-ending love. We declared that they were children of light, daughters of God and heirs to an incredible Kingdom.
By the time we left, their eyes were no longer filled with fear but with light and love. Their laughter echoed through the home and across the rice patties.
