Our morning started out like any other, a group of World Racers and a translator approaching homes and begging entry. We were welcomed into one home by a woman named Pandora. We entered the home, and all sat down, and we quickly learned through our translator Solomon that Pandora was a believer, and she was happy and excited to welcome us into her home. We all chatted for a bit, and then an older man entered the room. Jonathan, Pandora’s father, who was perhaps in his late sixties or early seventies, sat quietly for a bit, just listening. Pandora began to tell us a story, but was frustrated by the translation process. Jonathan began to speak in nearly flawless English. I think my jaw was dropped open in surprise for a few moments before I realized he was telling us a story.
“My daughter Pandora got sick two years ago. She went to a hospital nearby for abdominal surgery. They had to bring in a special doctor for the surgery, and it went well. After the surgery, my daughter met another woman in the hospital. This other woman had also had surgery, but hers had not gone well. She died. She had been married. But it was not a legal marriage. She was a concubine and she had a child. There was no one to care for the little girl, so when Pandora recovered, she took the girl home to live with her until they could find her father. But the man was hard to find. He went far away, to another district. We could not find him for many months. We finally found him, and he said he did not want his daughter. She was an orphan. Pandora met with a woman who runs an orphanage that had space for the little girl. But the woman told Pandora that since the girl had already been living with her for a year, the best thing for her would be for Pandora to adopt her. So she did.”
