Here I am, lying in my bed unable to sleep. Us world race girls just got done making our way around the room of bunk beds (there is literally no space, the room is jam-packed with bunk beds) giving all of the little girls a goodnight kiss on the cheek. We have the privilege of working in an orphanage this month. We are even in the same room as the girls. I can’t sleep, because the little girl in the bed next to me can’t sleep. I just met her about 15 minutes ago. She is new here, in the orphanage.
The lights were still on in the bedroom, and all of the little girls were jumping around, laughing and playing with each other; all of the girls accept the one sleeping next to me. She was curled up under her sheets, silent. I went and sat next to her and asked if everything was alright. Some of the other girls helped translate with the broken English that they knew. They said that she is sad, and wouldn’t eat dinner, because she misses her mother. She was hiding under her sheets because she didn’t want anyone to see her cry.
Pim, a girl who has been here for a while, told me that this is how they all act when they first get here. They cry. Although they come from broken homes, where some are abused, or abandoned; that is all they know. They learned to live that way, thinking it was the normal way of life. That man that beat her every night was her father. That woman that neglected her since she was a child was her mother, and that’s all they knew. So when they get to the orphanage, a place that is far from familiar, filled with strange faces that they have never seen before, they become homesick.
After I went around and gave the girls a goodnight kiss and tucked them in, I went to my bed upset. The girls here aren’t used to getting tucked in. It’s not fair, that I was tucked in every single night as a child. It’s not fair that my parents have said ‘I love you’ so many times that I can’t even count; when these children have never experienced that kind of parental love in their entire lives. I remember being away from my parents at camps when I was younger, and crying because I was so homesick, and these children are separated from their parents forever.
The name of this orphanage is called “Remember Nhu.” The story behind why this place began revolves around a girl named Nhu. She was rescued from the sex trade after sold into it by family. When the founder of this place met Nhu, he made a promise to God to do everything in his power to prevent what happened to Nhu to as many girls as he could, for the rest of his life. So, the place we are working at is a prevention center. A prevention from the sex trade. Statistics say that the average age to be trafficked is age 7, because they want the girls before they have a chance of getting HIV. The probability of getting trafficked for girls here in Thailand is 1 in 5. Although the girls in this orphanage are without parents, they are all well taken care of here. They are taught all about their Godly Father, and saved from what could have been a horrible outcome.
I love watching the girls pray before meals and before bed; it’s so sincere. Despite their circumstances, God has given them Joy, and I have no doubt that they will all grow up to be amazing women of God. I am truly privileged to have this time here. I think I have a lot to learn from these girls.
