You travel in the thick, humid Cambodian heat to a poverty stricken rural village. You climb out of the truck, and find yourself surrounded by dozens of small children. They look up at you with smiling faces, with dirt smudged on their cheeks and thick tangles in their hair. One small boy immediately raises his arms for you to pick him up, and once you do, he buries his small face into the crook of your neck. His body is covered with dirt and grim, and his hair is streaked with shades of brown in the typical black, a sign of malnourishment. His clothes are almost falling off of his small frame, and holes cover his faded shirt.
In spite of all these things, you hold him close and tight, trying to convey God's love without any words. While you are holding him, the team nurse sees a large wound on the back of his ankle. The wound is deep, discolored, and very obviously infected.
You climb into the back of the truck and continue holding the small boy, while the nurse opens up her medical kit. Even though the kit contains basic medical supplies, the only item to clean the wound is alcohol pads. You watch as the nurse tells the translator to convey to the boy that cleaning the wound will hurt, but it will help it heal as well. The boy sits in your lap and nods his head, understanding. As soon as the alcohol touches the deep parts of the wound, the boy starts screaming out in pain. Tears begin to pour down his face, and his body contorts, trying to get away from the pain. You continue to hold him close, attempting to hold him still while the nurse cleans the wound. Your heart feels like its breaking into a million different pieces, knowing that this small child needs medical care, but also knowing that there's nothing more you can do to take away the pain, nothing more than wiping away tears and sharing comforting words.
This is just a short explanation of what I experienced today. After we left, we wondered what more could we do? We helped this small boy today, but what about tomorrow? What happens when his mother doesn't understand basic hygiene, in order to keep his injury clean? What do we do when the limited medical supplies run out? More importantly, what happens when we leave?
It is with a heavy heart that I ask for your help. Any amount, and I mean absolutely any amount could help bring basic care to this community, as well as other villages in Cambodia. $1 could mean alcohol wipes and band-aids to prevent infection. $10 could mean feeding the village children a nutritious meal, something they don't get to experience regularly. $50 could mean clean, hole-free clothes for the numerous children in this village. $100 could mean fixing the local well, providing pure drinking water for the community.
If you would like to donate, my team created an account that will entirely and directly be used to help the basic needs of these communities. Don't just want to change the world. Be the change.
Children from the Cambodian village where we are ministering.
