Things that make you go hmmmmm.....

Today, Kristen from Rage Against the Minivan posted this: (Okay it may not have been posted today, but i stumbled across it today.) http://www.rageagainsttheminivan.com/2012/05/where-is-mommy-war-for-motherless-child.html It may have been a while since any blog post has so resonated with me. It has kind of rekindled that drive for justice, of which i sometimes contemplate the regression with small levels of anxiety. Regardless, this post resonated with me somewhat strongly and i wanted to share why. Did i ever tell you about my "ahaa" moment regarding the field of social work? It was by a lake in Macedonia. Our orphanage had just lost a child. No, let me be more clear. A child had just died who was, up until that time, residing in the orphanage we were serving at, in Albania. A sickness had hit the homes, a few children had been hospitalized, and one died. Now with two homes holding upwards of fifty children under the age of six, it was a blessing actually that so few children succumbed to a potentially fatal illness. Hearing of this involved some minor agonizing over whether or not i should go on the vacation to Macedonia we had been planning, but i was told that there wasn't much i could do if i didn't. So i did go. i had fun too. Still, that death really bothered me. Here's the odd thing- i didn't even know the child, not really. She wasn't one of my favorite children. She was a "shume i vogel", a very little one. Which is to say that i didn't spend a lot of time with her. She didn't participate in my crafts. i didn't cuddle her in the play room. i'm not sure i could have picked her out of a lineup. She impacted my life. Or rather, God used the tragedy of her death to do so. One day i stood by Lake Ohrid, and thought and prayed (if memory serves me correct). It struck me that the tragedy of the situation was not her death. This isn't to say that this wasn't tragic. No, of course it was. In my mind though, how she died was almost an even larger tragedy. Not that she died of an illness, though that too was sad. What seemed especially tragic was that she died while living in a group home. Even more, it was sad that at her age, in the country at that time, there was almost no other possibility. At that time there was a six month "mother may change her mind" period before an abandoned child could be adopted. Not, mind you after the child was born- after the child was abandoned. After that there was an additional six month long "this child can only be adopted by an Albanian family, even if his or her health condition or disability make this seem highly unlikely" period. Which is to say that a child often would be a year old before he or she would be adopted. Not because there weren't families interested in him. Not because she wasn't lovable. A child would be that old simply because somebody in power decided that he or she had the power to establish regulations which he or she may have honestly thought were in the best interest of the child, but which might not be in practicality. Now this little girl, whose name i do not even remember may have had a family. my ruminations may have been unjustified. She may have been one of the children who lived there because their family can't (or won't but don't get me started there) care for them. They may have been planning to take her home in the near future. That didn't change however the fact that this might not have been the case. By that lake that day, it struck me how important it was to advocate against injustice. People have the potential to affect legislation. They need to act however. People will not act unless they care. People will not care unless they know. At least that is often the case. Thank you Kristen for reminding me of this incident, and of the drive to advocate and inform the public toward social action. Thank You God for this reminder of that day. Thank You that You care about the orphans, and want us to as well. Now lets all get out there and advocate. It is important to speak for institutionalized children. they may not be able to speak for themselves.