Ian woke up at midnight and cried, 'Mommy, mommy.'
'Yes, baby, mommy here.' I responded.
'No blanket. Itchy, mommy.'
I softly massaged his legs where the mosquitoes bite caused the itch and sang him back to sleep. Five minutes later, he called out, 'Milk, mommy' and slept peacefully after sucking his bottle.
Then I suddenly thought of the kids born with HIV whom I visited in the Tam Binh Orphanage this afternoon, and strong emotions rose up in my chest. I remember the little ones who were older than three yet much smaller in size compared to Ian who was now two years eight months. I remember the curious looks in their eyes, the sparkles that lightened up theirl faces when each came forward to received their Christmas gifts, and the contagious laugh that shook their whole bodies when the guy in Santa Clause's costume laughed 'Ho Ho Ho' here and there. I thought of them and asked myself the question, 'Who would comfort them in the middle of the night when they cried? Who would softly sing a song for them to sleep at bed time? Who would hold them and let them cry their stresses out when they need to?' The answer is probably none. Although the caregivers were loving and caring, the ratio of caregivers to the kids is too low to allow individual attention. Fortunately for the kids, the ladies who worked there showed genuine love for them. I also saw the pride in the eyes of the centre's director when he looked at the kids. According to Dr. Moretti, one of my former professors at Santa Clara University, that was the main ingredient for the development of kids in the orphanage: love.
Tam, my counselor friend, organized this trip for us. The director gave her a wish list from the kids, then we asked friends and colleagues for help, and within two weeks we raised about one and a half thousand USD to fulfill their wish, with some leftover for another HIV centre and next year's project. Some of my RMIT colleagues and fourteen ABC school teachers accompanied Tam to the centre for the event. At the end, I am not sure who were the givers and who were the receivers. Everyone was so happy; the joy from the kids when they opened their gifts quickly got to the adults, and soon we all sat down among the kids to play with the toys.
Taking a final look at the chaotic but fun scene, where laughter and loud talking mixed with the controlled car's engine, and pieces of the gifts' colorful wrappers scattered on the ground, I again experienced the genuine joy of Christmas. It was a rare feeling that one only experienced as a child during Christmas time: checking the gifts under the Christmas tree and opening them in Christmas Day.
On the back of the motorbike trip back to home, I prayed that there was enough food for everyone in our world, that small children were properly cared off, and that love was abundant so that despite the darkness of wars, conflicts, hatred, and pain, there would always be hope for a better life.
December 17th, 2009
Saigon, Vietnam
No comments:
Post a Comment