A Girl Named Dilia

Dilia and her mother, the day she came to the Casita Feliz

La Casita Feliz – the heart of the Pan American Health Service Nutritional Rehab Center – is decorated for Christmas. On the wall is a mural where Santa Claus is pulling a sleigh filled with presents… except these presents are the photo of each of the 32 children who are patients receiving nutritious foodand tender loving care. What a precious gift each childis!

This Christmas is a particularly special one for Dilia – the most fragile patient to be admitted to Nutrition Center in 2013 – it will be her first away from her family however it will be a happy one regardless, for she has received the gift of life and restoration of health. In her short 13 years this very small teenager has experienced the extreme effects of hunger in ways that few can survive. Dilia arrived at la Casita Feliz on October 31, 2013 having been referred to the PAHS program by another nutritional rehab program in the city of San Pedro Sula.

Dilia’s medical treatment had begun sometime in late September when she was admitted to the acute care government hospital in the city with third degree malnutrition – extremely swollen and bloated by the protein deficiency in her body. Additionally she was profoundly anemic and presented with a parasite infestation. Worst of all the nutrient deficiency had an effect on her neurological health and she had cerebral atrophy and the motor and verbal skills of a one-year-old baby. The medical personnel knew she would need long-term care and they eventually found placement at PAHS.

The irony is that Dilia’s struggle for survival was waged on the fringes of the most prosperous city in Honduras – its industrial capital, San Pedro Sula – on the edges of the river where thousands of families, seeking a way out of extreme poverty, gather in hopes of finding a better life for themselves and where in many cases their misery grows instead of dissipating.  Such is the story of Dilia’s mother, a woman who collects plastic bottles and aluminum cans from the garbage to sell in order to have money to feed her three daughters. She relates that many days she would return home empty-handed and experience the pain of watching her children suffer hunger pangs just like herself.

To make matters worse Dilia suffered from a speech impediment and although she had been referred to therapy which was free of charge her mother could not manage the logistics of transportation when she could barely feed her children.

Dilia smiling after two weeks in our Campus

One month after her arrival at the PAHS Nutritional Rehab Center in Peña Blanca, Dilia – who had been getting around in a wheelchair – took her first steps unaided. The love, good food and motivation received from her caretakers have made a profound difference in her life. Her mother came to visit shortly after Dilia started walking. Hardly able to believe what she was seeing her eyes filled with tears as she repeated: “She’s walking”.

Dilia’s speedy recovery is miraculous and a joy to behold. Perhaps soon she will be able to be more self-sufficient and be able to enjoy a childhood which hunger has stolen from her.

Thankful for the Father Who never Abandons Us

As Rosita swings on the swing set, the soft breeze tousles her curls while warm rays of sunshine bathe her surroundings and whisper to her of a Father she is just getting to know. There in the back and forth of her swinging this small child is removed from the extenuating circumstances that are the reality of her short life. She is the youngest of seven siblings who recently came to live in the PAHS Home.

These children’s lives recently were a nightmare. Four hours travel time away in the capital, Tegucigalpa, their mother is dying of a lung disease and only a miracle can save her. Two months ago, as the children lay sleeping, their father disappeared during the night. “When we woke up in the morning he just wasn’t there anymore. He left without telling us goodbye”, Rosita remembers. At the age of six, she already is feeling deeply the repercussions of abandonment.“Before coming here we lived in the city with an aunt. She took us to live with her when our older sister went to be with our mother in the hospital. She locked us up and then brought us back to our house. We were alone and scared. There were many men close to our house and my siblings and I would hide.

When someone would knock on our door we would be very still and quiet so that they would not know we were inside”, Mercy tells us.  At the age of fourteen, she became the primary caretaker to the younger siblings in the absence of their oldest sister, 17, who has gone to be at the bedside in the hospital to care for their dying mother. Now the fear that these children lived in has been left to one side, and in its place, they now get to enjoy the company of other youngsters who they can talk to and play with. They get to eat three meals a day and live in a room that was specially decorated just for them by Gary and Jennifer, a couple whom God used to remove them from the nightmare they were living in. Part of a visiting group who stayed on the PAHS campus while they worked construction at a nearby site, Gary and Jennifer came across the abandoned siblings when they were out distributing food baskets to the community.

Observing the conditions that Mercy and her younger siblings lived in they decided to intervene and find a safer situation for the children. Safety, now they have it. There is no more fear. And even though they are not fully aware of the seriousness of their mother’s struggle to live their little hearts are with her and their hope is placed in the Father-- their Heavenly Father--  they have just come to know.“I didn’t know any songs before, but we just learned ‘Let us give thanks to God’. We feel that there must be Somebody who loves us so much to provide us with all of this. And you say that Jesus loves us. Well I am thankful to know this Father that will not abandon us”, concludes Mercy.

Meanwhile, Rosita jumps off of the swing set and runs to the arms of her older sister. The smile on her face is evidence that just like this sibling bond of love held them together in the dense darkness of the trial they have come through, now they have the security of that Heavenly Father, they are just getting to know, who will always be with them just like He always has been before they knew it. Thanks to a visiting volunteer group and the watchfulness and concern of one special couple, the siblings are now adapting to their new home at PAHS.

I Have No Food For My Children

In the Bible, Jesus asks: “ Which of you knowing your children are hungry and asking for bread would give them a stone instead?” He goes on to point out that if people who are imperfect know how to give good things to their children, then imagine how much more our Heavenly Father can give to those who ask Him. This is the only hope that the little Muñoz siblings have as the conditions in which they have been living are far from what would be considered appropriate.

Six of the seven children in this family were admitted to the Nutritional Rehabilitation Hospital. Maryuri and Xiomara, the two youngest ones were admitted on Friday with a diagnosis of Third Degree Malnutrition. Doctor Maldonado had to count their teeth in order to determine which one was the oldest sister. Later the family returned to the Nutrition Hospital with the four older children who were also admitted for treatment of their malnutrition. Their parents were accompanied by the pastor from their community church in Yojoa, 50 kilometers from Peña Blanca. This good man had provided the desperately poor family with a humble amount of food and a place to stay, and in spite of the charity of the pastor, the situation for the family remained disheartening: an unemployed father, a mother caring for a newborn, without food or a roof of their own.

All these circumstances have reduced these parents to a painful existence of watching powerlessly as their children grow weak and ill as a result of the scarcity. Mahatma Gandhi once said: “There are people in this world who are so hungry that God can only appear to them as a loaf of bread”.  Indeed this seems to be the situation for this particular family. In spite of the extreme poverty from where these siblings have come, it is admirable to witness the protective instinct these little ones have for each other. In their short stay, we have noted that Maria, 9, the oldest sister, automatically takes charge of the two youngest ones. It is evident that she has been the right-hand helper of her mother, and one can imagine what she has endured in her short life. Shortly after her arrival Maria picked up both little sisters, one in each arm, and did not want to put them down. One of our Staff Nannies came close and said to her: “We will take care of them now. You can go play”.PLAY? That was not a word in Maria’s vocabulary... but now it is. There are so many new things to be experienced! Like the flavor of a warm bite of food, eating three meals a day, the feel of a new pencil between her fingers, and the ability to doodle on a piece of paper -- up until now she has never been to school -- the feel of a warm blanket on her skin on these cold and rainy nights. We are conscious of the fact that for these parents it has not been easy to leave their six small children with us.

They have done so with a new faith in the God they are just getting acquainted with; a God who has now provided them with a new home, health care, and adequate living facilities for their children.

God sent us to get you

Alicia and Nellie

I entered the Casita Feliz on a special mission. A joyous place, filled with happy voices, smiling little faces and tiny hands reaching out to be squeezed, the “happy little house” is the new dwelling of Alicia, 7 years old,a waif brought to the Nutritional Rehabilitation Center four days before by a Medical Team from Central Texas Medical Center in San Marcos, Texas. I wanted to see how she was feeling today and assess the recovery progress she was making.

Having been a photographer for the Team on the last day of Field Clinic, I had developed a special bond with Alicia which started when I was asking her to stand closer to her mother for a picture while they waited to be seen by the doctor. My hand brushed her very taut belly and my eyes immediately fell to her feet to confirm what I suspected – Alicia was in a state of severe malnutrition - her feet barely visible because her long dress was swollen, peeling, and raw, the secondary effects of not having enough protein and vitamins in her food. My heart ached as I looked through the camera at her sad brown eyes. Her demeanor spoke of a life of pain, indeed the struggle to survive. My gut instincts told me this was the child we had come to the mountain village of Santa Rosa de Bacadilla to retrieve. She was the reason we were right here, right now. Reflexively I felt a deep gratitude and sent up a prayer to God for having sent us, for the privilege of being part of this Medical Team … today.

My heart quickened as I saw the family enter the humble little structure that usually serves as a one-room school but today was a one-room Clinic filled with Doctors, Nurses, Support staff, and Patients. I quickly followed knowing I would have an important role to play in the treatment of this particular family. My fluency with the language, my profession as a Registered Nurse and a lifetime living in these mountains and watching malnourished children recover give me a unique perspective and skill set that would come in handy. As they sat before Dr. Ivery - a pediatrician - and her translator, Paul, I hunched down next to the mother.

Then, for what seemed like an eternity but was probably a little less than an hour, we coxed and cajoled the mother to allow her malnourished seven-year-old daughter and three-year-old son to be admitted to the Nutrition Program at Pan American Health Service in Peña Blanca.  The father – who it turned out is Alicia’s stepfather – was convinced much sooner than her mother that this was a good idea. Her mother kept repeating, “I don’t want her to be brought back to me dead” and “I don’t want a dead child”, while all the time resisting her consent for her children to be treated and restored back to health. At some point, I glanced over at Dr. Ivery, a mother herself, who had tears streaming down her cheeks. With a lump in my throat, I said to the mother, “See, the doctor knows how seriously sick your little girl is and it makes her sad.  And she is a mother too and knows how hard it is to think of being apart from your children”. At this, I saw a ceding in the mother’s manner. Tears started to well in her eyes as she said: “Ok, but tell the doctor to stop crying”.  I breathed a sigh of relief as I knew Alicia was on her road to recovery.

Having the consent of Alicia’s mother for her and her little brother to be admitted to the Nutrition Rehab I stepped out of my role as translator/nurse and resumed my photography job.   The next time I looked back at Dr. Ivery and Paul’s medical station my heart was warmed to see Nellie, a nurse, and Karen, a respiratory therapist and the leader of this Medical Team gently washing Alicia’s swollen and peeling feet. After softly bandaging her feet up with Karen, Nellie scooped Alicia into her arms and tenderly carried her out of the one-room, make-shift Clinic, up the trail to the vehicle that would transport her to a new life.  I was transfixed as I snapped photo after photo, my mind reeling at the miracle I was witnessing, my heart full of a knowing that Alicia’s life will never be the same again.  I was struck by the symbolism as Nellie carried Alicia up the path … up and out of her life of pain.

Four days later, I am in the Casita Feliz on a mission. I am here to see how Alicia is feeling today. My heart leaps as she responds in a one-syllable chirp that sounds like a little bird: “Bien” (Good) to my question of “Como te sentis hoy?” (How do you feel today?).  I feel deep gratitude and great love for this child bubbling up in my chest and impulsively, without thought, I blurt out, “You know, God sent us to get you. Did you know that?” Instantly her face lit up, her eyes sparkled and joy radiated from one of the most beautiful smiles I have ever seen. That moment was a clear confirmation for what I knew in my gut when I first took her picture: God sent us to Santa Rosa de Bacadilla to get Alicia.

He puts poor people on their feet again; he rekindles burned-out lives with fresh hope, Restoring dignity and respect to their lives - a place in the sun! ~ 1 Samuel 2:8

“To him who believes all things are possible”

Suyapa and Ingrid

As we move farther into the beautiful mountains of Santa Barbara, (located in Northwestern Honduras) I can’t help but admire the natural beauty of this place; beautiful pine forests, refreshing streams, the impetuous Ulua River and extensive hilltops that merge to form a magnificent landscape.

Without a doubt this is one of the most pleasant journeys I have taken, excluding the atrocious state of the “road” we are traveling on which has been washed out by the rain in which diches and uneven surfaces are the predominant, a fact that has our driver making a thousand maneuvers just to stay on course.

Any lover of nature and photography would be ecstatic to have this experience, however, my thoughts go beyond the natural composition, since our mission is to locate Ingrid, a girl who is suffering one of the worst cases of malnutrition I have ever seen in my life, Grade III Marasmus. At nine years of age, this deplorable illness has had its way with her, and as if this was not enough she also suffers from a mental health problem that limits her ability to live a normal childhood.

Her twin brother did not have the same fate, and here in front of us can be seen the contrast between a child who is well and the ravages that malnutrition can make in a young life. This is the reason we are here… if they cannot come to us, we will go to them. The famous saying with my own modification goes: “If the mountain cannot come to PAHS, then we will go to the mountains”.The extreme poverty that sails the most remote communities of Honduras does not permit its poorest inhabitants to seek the help they need; to go