"Is That Me, Tia?"

Doing the life books with the girls has been the highlight of my month, and maybe even the highlight of my time here. It is so wonderful to see them smile and laugh, and reminisce about the past. Many of the girls are plagued and haunted by past trauma, including violence, abuse, neglect, and abandonment. But, to see them smiling, remembering joyful memories makes my heart happy.

Many of the girls, especially the younger ones, struggle with the idea of having their own things. Living in a home, the reality is most everything is shared--school supplies, food, some clothes, toys, and movies. So, to have a book that they themselves have individually made and to have it to cherish and keep forever is something incredible, a very new feeling for them.

Last weekend, I printed tons and tons of photos form when the girls were much younger. Many of them have changed and matured so much, and have blossomed into beautiful young women. But, seeing them as you girls was so fun. We sat and went through each photo, and the girls recounted stories and shared about their first experiences in the home. Although looking at the pictures and watching the girls create these special books that hold their memories is an incredibly amazing experince for me, it was just as incredible to hear them talking about their arrivals at the home, their impressions, their memories. I felt as if I was let into a whole new world, and have reached a new level of trust.

One of the girls, who is now 7, entered the home about five years ago when she was three. Prior to entering Corazon del Pastor, she and her sisters suffered severe physical and psychological abuse, something that still haunts them. I was sitting with her, and she turned to me confused. She asked, "Is that me, Tia?" I looked at the photo and it definitely was her. I said, "Yup, that's you as a tiny girl." It was extremely weird to me that she didn't recognize herself as baby. But, I realized these kids have no pictures from younger years--no photos in the bath tub, riding a bike for the first time, eating solid food for the first time, taking their first steps... This is sad, and makes me realize, again, just how lucky I am to have parents who took millions of pictures of me since I was born.

This project has made me realize that if I had one wish, I would change the pasts of all the kids. I would ensure they had parents who showered them with love and kindness, hugs and kisses. I would make sure they had wonderful memories, which were captured in photos and videos. I would want them to be able to look back at their childhoods fondly and with joy in their hearts. I only hope these books give them a certain peace about their lives, and help them realize that being a "home child" has it's benefits--more hugs, more kisses, and more love from the tias and their "sisters."


Victoria showing off her life book. Although she is young, Victoria has really gotten into the project.


Karina excited to start and thinking about how to display her photos.


Three of the youngest girls working on a page for their books.


Raeka showing some of her photos. She was overly excited about her baby pictures!


Olivia looking through her photos with a smile on her face. She entered the home at a young age also, and was shocked at how little she was five years ago.

"Who is This?"

As my time here comes to a close, the days spent with the children of NCV make me realize how hard it will be to leave.

Yesterday, I worked at the girls' home for over 12 hours. But, the hours and the time didn't matter. Only the memories and the fun, the hugs and the laughs.

We started the day by working in small groups doing their life books. Thanks to Becky and Mark Teiwes, former NCV volunteers, each girl has a life book that she can decorate, put photos, and reminisce. Living a life away from family is hard, and I can't even imagine what these girls feel. But, having a personal place to paste photos and glue down memories makes a difficult situation more bearable. The girls had a blast, and it was obvious that each photo had significance and memories. It was so beautiful to sit and watch as smiles crept over their faces as they slowly looked through their pile of pictures, and as the sat back and admired the pages of photos, stickers, and decorations.

After dinner, as we were all washing and drying dishes, cleaning the dining room and organizing clothes, the phone rang. I answered, "Buenas Noches." And a girl's voice answered back, "Buenas Noches, this is Camila." I was shocked and confused, because the only Camila I knew returned to her family about a year ago. "Who is This?," I asked again just to be sure and clear up my uncertainty. The girl on the other end quickly answered, "It's Camila. Is this Tia Megan?" Then I knew, it was her. This absolutely made my night! When Camila was living in the home, we were very close, and I had a very difficult time when she left. Her return to her family came as a surprise--we found out about 3 hours before it all happened. As we quickly planned a goodbye party for her, the feelings of sadness and complete shock were palpable. Having to say a rushed goodbye, and giving her a final hug and kiss still weigh heavily on my heart. Working so closely with these girls, you create a special bond. And, it's extremely difficult to say goodbye, knowing you may never see them again. So, to hear her voice, and be able to talk was incredible. I am hoping to head to her city before I return to the States to see her one last time, and to bring photos, letters, and cards, and give her one last hug.

And, to finish off a wonderful night, we had a Bingo tournament. To make it more interesting, the grand prizes, which the girls were unaware of, were Justin Beiber and Katy Perry posters, along with some sweets. They had a blast, but I had more fun watching them and listening to them laugh and get excited!

These are the days that make me realize leaving Cochabamba will be much harder than expected. Since being here, I have 24 beautiful sister, and 10 amazing brothers who will be missed every moment. But, I will hold them in my heart. Forever.

"She's Just Sick."

I like to share stories and little moments from my time in Bolivia on here.
The kids of Ninos con Valor have brought so much happiness and joy to my life. But, many of their stories are full of heart break and sadness.

One of our youngest girls in Corazon del Pastor has had a rough life. She's 5, and although she was young when she lived with her parents, she has been greatly affected by the maltreatment that surrounded her for the first part of her life. It all started when she was a baby. Her mother has a history of mental issues. And, this little girl and her siblings have suffered mental, emotional, and physical abuse at the hands of their mother. The young girl still has physical scars that serve as reminders of her traumatizing past. However, despite the violence and trauma that have plagued her life, she is full of smiles and laughs, happiness and kindness, love and affection.

One day, we were sharing scars and the stories behind them. She rolls up her pant leg, and shows the fairly large scar on the inside of her ankle. She comes close, and says, "Tia, my mom did this," still pointing to the scar, the reminder. She comes even closer, and says, "But, she's not bad. She's just sick." This caught me off guard, and tears began to form in my eyes. A 5 year old stated something so profound, so beautiful. Something many of us in our 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s could never say, or understand.
I pulled her close, and whispered, "You are right. She's not bad." As she sat down in my lap, she said so softly, barely audible, "Ya, Tia, she just needs help. She's not bad."

This happened last week, and has stayed with me, hanging close to my heart since. This moment spent with this very wise, very loving 5-year-old, brought to mind words I have posted on here before: "A scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived," wrote Chris Cleave in his book Little Bee.

I thank her for this moment of pure, untainted love and forgiveness. As I struggle to let go of bitterness and anger, she has learned to forgive her mother, who hurt her more than anyone, even leaving scars.