Better Late Than Never

I always like to write the stories of each of our children on the day we bring them home to live in our Sunshine Houses for two reasons. One…it helps me process the day. It is such a joy to bring them home, but it is also emotionally heavy. Each of our children carry a sad story and come from situations of abuse, neglect, and abandonment. It breaks my heart to know what they have suffered and to know that many more children are currently suffering in similar circumstances. Second, it is a written record of their story that helps me to remember what they have been through. It is not that I want to look back and mourn what they have endured, but rather it allows me to celebrate their new life with us and their growth. I love witnessing the transformation in them spiritually, physically, emotionally and mentally. Once abandoned and orphaned children are placed in a safe, secure, loving environment where their fears and worries are removed, they get to be children again, free to play and love and experience life with the opportunities they now have before them. 

 I recently realized I never wrote the story of Fernando and his little brother Antoninho, whom we affectionally refer to as our “bichinho” (little bug). These two precious brothers joined our family in June 2021. Fernando was then 10 years old and Antonio was only 6 years old. They were placed with us by the Social Services for Women and Children in Manhica, about a two hour drive from us in Matola. 

 The mother of the boys had died shortly after Antonio’s birth. Their father was not suited to care for the boys and lived a lifestyle that endangered them physically and emotionally. It was so difficult that the boys chose at such a young age to leave their home and live on the street. This is how Social Action discovered them. The only location they had to place them in was an all-girls’ orphanage in Manhica. They were placed there temporarily until a more permanent placement was found. 

 Before we went to bring the boys home, we were sent this photo of them. Are they cute or what? Once placed in girls’ center, they were given the opportunity to go to school so this photo shows them proudly modeling their new school uniforms. 

This is the photo they sent to us of the house they came from. 

Needless to say, my heart was captured by them and their situation just from these photos. When we arrived in Manhica, after collecting the local caseworker from Social Action, we went to the father’s house to get information and complete documents. The living conditions were among the poorest I have witnessed. Their father was a fisherman, and not a very successful one from the appearance of their surroundings. He was also clearly not a very good father for reasons I cannot share. It was obvious the boys could not be raised in his care. He gave us their history and birth certificates, signed a document relinquishing his parental rights, and we were done. As we got into our car to leave, I realized with great sadness that at no point did he even ask who we were or where we would be taking the boys to live. 

Our next stop was to collect the boys from the girls’ center where they had been living. It was a lovely and tidy place, very well maintained. We met the boys and watched as the girls surrounded them and prepared them to go with us. It was adorable to see them doting over Fernando and Antonio. It was apparent that the boys had been pampered during their short time there. 

We said our goodbyes to the girls and walked to the van. As we were walking, I asked the boys if they would like to go and say goodbye to their father before leaving. Without hesitation or even looking up at me, they simply replied, “No”. With that, we loaded them in the van and took what has become our traditional photo with them in the back. 

It was quite late until we arrived at Sunshine House 5. It was dark outside and we were all tired from a long day. The boys were welcomed by their new mother, Catarina, and their new siblings, Faustino, Beatriz, and France. We left them to sleep and get to know each other. Over the next few months, they learned a lot about being in a family and having older brothers who do not appreciate being provoked and whose possessions they were not to take and break. Oh my! 

The boys have now been with us for about a year and a half. They have done a lot of growing! 

Fernando enjoys school and has recently begun reading. It has come with a lot of work. I often arrive at the home and catch him off by himself reading a book, laboriously mouthing out each word. He is determined to master reading! 

Fernando has struggled greatly with self-esteem. I could see in him that he felt a bit lost. One day, I asked him if he knew how very special he was. He looked me straight in the eye and said, “No”. Thus began my quest to reassure him and teach him how special he is! I am so happy to see all of the love and messages I have poured into him influencing him. He now greets me with a warm hug each time I come. Fernando has learned his place in the family and interacts positively with his brothers. Once a loner and outsider, he is now out and about with his brothers playing. 

Antonio is growing up too fast for us, as little boys do! He has lost his two front teeth and grown new ones back in again. 

He is gaining height by the inches every day. He loves, loves, loves to play…sometimes a little too much, according to his teachers at school. He is the first one to enter our learning center after school each day. His go-to-games are the puzzles. He has put together every puzzle on our shelves at least 10 times each! 

 I sit here at my computer smiling with the greatest of humble satisfaction as I write their story to share with you. As I said in the beginning, I usually write these stories on the day we bring them home. Therefore, I only know their past and nothing of their future. But for Fernando and Antonio, I now know a bit of what was to be their future experiences and transformation after leaving their past behind them. It feels good to write their story having seen them grow and change. Their story is just beginning. They are only 11 and 7 now. They have a lot of life ahead of them. I am so thankful to be able to experience it with them!

Parabens (Congratulations), Chef Catarina!

Our foundation, the Sunshine Approach Foundation, seeks to uplift and transform the lives of the poor, widowed and orphaned. Our Sunshine Homes serve two equally vulnerable people groups- widows/abandoned women and orphaned/abandoned children. By pairing one of these women with 4-6 of these children, we create families. While it is often the cute little children living in our homes who garner all the attention, we are as committed to our moms as we are to the little darlings for whom they care. 

It is our goal for our children that after receiving a full education and training, they will be prepared to enter the real world and live independent, self-sustaining lives as productive members of society. We have the same goal for our mothers when their children have left the family home. We have yet to have a child or a mother “age out” of our program, but for now, we are doing what we can to prepare them for this moment in their future lives. 

For our mothers, this means providing them with the training and tools they will need to live successfully on their own…much the same as what we are doing for our children. We shared with our moms that if there is an interest or training they desire to pursue, we will provide what they need to realize their dreams. All our moms have taken preschool teacher training courses to grow their skills as leaders for the community children’s projects they conduct at their homes. Zelda and Ilda have completed cake baking and decorating courses and are now baking and selling cakes in their community (not to mention our need to purchase cakes for the numerous birthdays for our children, moms, and community project celebrations which keeps their ovens running). These accomplishments have increased our mothers’ self-esteem and abilities, and we are proud to see their gains. 

Catarina is the mother at our 5th Sunshine Home. Faustino (12), his sister Beatriz (10), and their friend France (11) were the first 3 children we brought to her home in April 2021. She has done nothing short of a miracle in training these children who came to her ill-mannered, angry, and mistrustful. All 3 of them had been hurt and abandoned and never were privileged to learn the basic skills of living in a family. Catarina dug in her heels and took on this challenge. She was firm and loving, consistent, and present. Eventually, all 3 children have transformed under her watch into well-mannered, caring, and disciplined family members. 

Then in June 2021, 10 year-old Fernando and his little 7 year-old brother Antoninho (whom we affectionately refer to as our “bichinho”- little bug). These boys came from a life so difficult that they chose to live on the streets rather than remain in their father’s house. Catarina took them and blended them right into her existing family.

I love the patience and fortitude Catarina has displayed in her parenting of these children. I equally love Catarina’s zest for life and laughter. No matter her mood or situation, one is always greeted with the biggest of smiles and the happiest of tones in her voice. It makes you feel like she has been waiting all day just to see you! You get the sense that you are the joy in her life just by showing up! 

I cannot remember a time when I have entered Catarina’s home and not found a cooking show playing on the television. Usually, it is just background for her as she works about the house. But on the rare occasion, you find her sitting and watching the programs as famous TV chefs prepare delicacies whose ingredients I cannot even pronounce. At such times, I will sit with her, and we chat about foods, cooking, and our favorites as well as our failures. These visits led to a discussion on whether she would like to participate in a cooking course. Was she ever excited about that! 

We looked around and found a general culinary course at Escola Culinario, a not-too-distant walk for her in Matola. We got her registered and were pleased to discover that a course was starting the next week. The course was only 4 weeks long but being a full-time mom made this no easy task. Each day began with her seeing her 5 children off to school. She then prepared a lunch to leave behind for them when they returned from school at 12 noon. She then got herself ready and was in class from 10:00 until 2:00 each day, returning home about 3:00. You always knew when Catarina got home. In her usual authoritative “mom-manner”, she entered the home and started calling out the children on whatever chores they had disregarded in her absence, asking if they had eaten their lunch and calling back in anyone who instead chose to run off and play, and checking to see who did or did not complete their homework yet. She does make me laugh! 

I am pleased to announce that Catarina completed the course with great success. The end task was an exam where she was to purchase materials, prepare a full meal at home, and then bring it to her school to present to the professors. She chose to make a curry and amazing cake! Needless to say, the professors were pleased, and she passed, receiving her certificate. 

We now look forward to seeing what Catarina will do with her newly acquired culinary skills. She now has the ability to not only prepare nutritional and delicious meals for her family, but she can prepare meals to sell in the community or to cater events. We know that whatever she decides to do, she will approach the task and succeed. Well done, Catarina. Parabens!!!

Victory Comes in Small Steps

There is nothing more rewarding than seeing a life transformed. I have been privileged to witness many lives of the women and children in our Sunshine Homes and community projects, as well as with our company employees changed in our time in Mozambique. 

When people of any age are given security and value, they thrive. They are able to let go of their fears and take risks. They shed their low self-esteem and boldly walk in confidence. They are no longer disregarded and ignored, but they realize they have worth and importance. 

My very favorite experiences in life are when I catch one of our Sunshine children in moments of quiet victory; when I see them stepping out in their newfound confidence. One such example is our Faustino, now 14 years old. 

Faustino was only 12 when we brought him home. He was sorely beaten down, angry and distrustful. (See https://sunshineinafrica.blogspot.com/2021/04/forgotten-no-more.html to read his full story.) To say we were concerned about him is an understatement. Life had been hard on him, and he was a hard little boy. He had never been taught respect, diligence, or manners. He didn’t know of love or that he has value. He was disrespectful to his house mom. He was mean to his brothers and sisters. He provoked our other Sunshine children. He came to our weekly church gatherings with his hood up, his head down, and did not participate or speak a word. At the end of the gathering, he was the first one to exit out the gate. Our biggest fear for Faustino was that he would run off and join a gang of street boys. 

We prayed for him and we loved him despite his ways. His house mom, Catarina, stood firm with him and held him accountable. Our program administrator, Delcio, talked with him after altercations helping him to understand how to be a part of a family. We all hung in there and made sure he knew that he was loved and that we were there for him. 

Slowly, he began to soften. We saw it in little ways at first. The victories were few and far between, but we rejoiced with each one. As time progressed, you could see a visible difference in his face and in the way he interacted with others. He was kinder and gentler. He asked for an ABC book so that he could teach his little brother, Antoninho, how to write his letters. He spoke up and participated in our church gatherings (with his hood off now). He became an active help to his mother. He began making friends of our Sunshine children. He worked very hard in school and caught up to his peers (after not having attended school for two years). 

Recently, he called me to speak privately for a moment. I had a flashback to the early days when he asked for such audiences. It was usually to ask for money, to the angst of our other children who emphatically told him, “You do NOT ask Mama Terri for money!” So I hesitantly walked off with him to a quiet place away from the other children. He pulled out a sheet of paper from behind his back and started to read…

“Mama Terri, I am thankful for all that you have done for all of us. Thank you, Sunshine. I am here thank to you, Mama Terri. Thank you very much for giving me a life. All of you, Sunshine, are very good. Thank you, Mama Terri. 

Kisses to you, Mama Terri. 

I am Faustino da Sonia Carlos Sambo and I am 13 years old.” 

With tears in my eyes. I hugged him and held him until he let go. I shared with him how loved he is and how proud I am of him. I told him that he is a good, good boy. 

They say that as a mother you often must wait until your children are in their 20s or even 30s before they come back to you and thank you for all you have done for them. I didn’t have to wait this long with Faustino. He has come to realize the love and safety and opportunity he has, and he showed me how much he appreciates it all. 

And did you notice how he signed his letter? It was more of a declaration than a closing. He was confidently declaring who he knows he is. He is proud of himself. He knows he is somebody and that he is important.

 Another Children's Day has come and gone here in Mozambique. June 1 is a national holiday to celebrate our country's most precious resource...our children. There are parties everywhere... at schools, in homes, and in centers and projects that serve children. This is the one day of the year where each child gets a present, no matter how meager a family's finances may be. They may get just a party hat, a candy, or a balloon...no gift is too small. To prove my point, as I passed a local school, I saw a young boy, maybe 10 years old, walking out holding a balloon in the way you would expect him to carry a treasure of greatest worth... staring at it in wonder, turning it over and over to look at it from all angles. He came to a friend and passed it off to him, who exhibited the same awe for this small treasure. He took it in his hands, gave it a good look, and then handed it back oh so gently to its rightful owner. 

We ourselves had lots of parties going on this day. We had parties in the morning for our 4 Beacons of Light community projects. The verandas were decorated with balloons and streamers. The children were given party hats, prize bags, and presents. There was cake to eat and cool drinks to enjoy. In the afternoon, we had a party for our Sunshine children. We had our fill of chicken, rice, french fries, salad, cool drinks and cup cakes. At all of the parties, we sang and danced and played and rejoiced together.

My very favorite moment of the day came at the very end of it. We were passing out treat bags to our Sunshine children. They were bubbling over with excitement as they waited for their name to be called out to receive their gift bag. There was lots of noise, movement, and happiness. In all of this clamor, I spied Helio sitting behind me. My heart was instantly melted as I looked upon this little boy of ours. This little boy who had been abandoned, was living in squalor, and was left with no opportunity before him until God brought us together. 

Here he quietly sat... in his own little world... reading a book. He was so absorbed in it that he didn't even realize what was going on around him. Our typical Helio is all boy. He loves to play and can be quite mischievous, both at home and at school. When our phone rings and we discover it is the school calling, we can be pretty sure it will be about Helio.  Recently, reading clicked for Helio, and it has totally altered his course. It has taken him until 5th grade to master the ability to read, and he is beyond enthralled with the new world that has been opened up to him in books.  We are excited for him and trust that he will now take school a bit more seriously. We look forward to seeing him use his newly acquired skills to forge ahead. 

As I closed my eyes to sleep at the end of a long day, this was the image I carried with me from Children's Day. Best day ever, in all ways! Especially the unexpected moments!

More Time...

 More time...it is something we all think we have. Yet "more time" is not always available to us. Whether it is us personally or someone we love, there will come a day when we will not have a tomorrow. So maybe we should make the decision to live our lives making the best use of the time we do have. Then we won't have regrets later on. I trust that my reflections in this blog will encourage me and all of you to live selflessly for the people in our lives while we still have them with us. 

My dear, sweet Vovo Theresa died yesterday. When Delcio called to tell me the news, he began by telling me that he needed me to be strong. I wasn't; the tears flowed out of me, unsolicited. But they dried up as quickly as they came. How could I be sad when this blessed saint has left a world of suffering and poverty and entered into her place in an eternal kingdom of abundant life?!? All I could picture was Vovo Theresa walking, dancing and skipping for joy as she entered a banquet feast prepared just for her! Her life on this earth was not at all nice. She grew up in a very impoverished village. She knew what it was like to be hungry and to go without the most basic of things. She was a wife and a mother (who has buried 5 or her 6 children) and a grandmother. She scraped out an existence for her and her family. She lived a life of extreme poverty that you and I will never even be able to begin to comprehend. 

When I first met her 9 years ago, she was just plain old. She didn't even know how old she was! She did not have use of her legs and was not able to walk anymore. She lived in a one-room cement house with a metal roof. There was no electricity or water. No bathroom. She had a door but no window. In order to be safe at night from robbers, she would push the door shut and put rocks against it. Her only belongings were a few bundles of clothing and a grass mat that she slept on. When you entered her house, it was airless, stuffy and smelled of urine. Often, you would spy a rat scurrying off for cover. She did not have the capacity to care for herself at all. 

Her little house was connected to one occupied by her son, Bento. Bento could not walk either. He did not have the use of the left side of his body, most likely due to a stroke. Bento was a bit more physically able than his mother. He kept his room neatly swept out and clean. He had a pile of clothing in a corner and a grass mat to sleep on at night as well. 

Every day, Vovo Theresa and Bento would crawl outside and sit in their dirt yard in each other's company. This is where we would find them each time we came to visit. As soon as we exited the car, Bento would begin calling out to me repeatedly, "Mama! Mama!" And even though she couldn't walk, Vovo Theresa always, always greeted me with a huge smile and a dance as she sat on the ground. They brought me so much joy. I always made sure to kiss their cheeks (with a very loud "mwah, mwah" as I did), hug them, and hold their hands. I would kneel down next to them to look them eye to eye, even though my aging knees protested, creaked and ached. It was important to me to be on their level and not look down on them. Even with the onset of Covid and the warnings to not kiss or touch other people, I continued on. How has it happened that we live in a world where you cannot touch people anymore?!? They were so alone and had no one in their lives to simply touch them. No one else ever took notice of them. People would pass by on the road and not even see them there. I felt compelled to be that one person who not only saw them, but touched them. 

Bento spoke a very slurred Portuguese, and I, of course, spoke my pathetic "American Portuguese", but we were able to understand each other. In communicating with Vovo Theresa, though, I had to rely on Delcio because she only spoke the local Shongan language. 

We did what we could for them, bringing them fresh clothing and blankets, tea, sugar and food...basic things like this. We discovered that when we brought them the more "luxurious" items that we thought would improve their lives...a soft pillow on which to lay their head when they slept, an absorbent bath towel to dry off, a cushy mat to put under them when they slept or an exercise mat to sit on when they were outside, or warm blankets to stave off the cold on a winter night... they didn't use them! They hid them away inside their house because if people saw them, they would come and steal them from them!

So we had to be creative in special gifts for them. We opted for socks that they would keep on their feet, solar-powered lamps small enough to be tucked away, sweet cakes and candies they could eat unnoticed, and poison rat traps that could be drilled into the floor of the house. Vovo Theresa's most favorite treat was when I would bring her cashews. She said they reminded her of when she was a little girl growing up in Gaza where cashew trees are plentiful. She was always kind to share her cashews, passing them out to the little children who would gather and join us during our visits. These were little things, but they helped improve their lives. 

Vovo Theresa and Bento had an interesting relationship. They were mother and son. They were neighbors. But they talked very little and knew very little about each other. They were simply companions and a presence in each other's life. They had each other and kept each other from being alone. 

A funny story about them...Morning tea (with way too much sugar) and a type of bread called "pao" are a daily staple for all Mozambicans. So we made sure each month that Vovo Theresa and Bento had tea and sugar, and we arranged for a neighbor to bring hot water. We brought a bag of tea and a small bag of sugar for each one and would leave it in their house at the beginning of the month. I remember one month, the store did not have the small bags of sugar we usually bought, so we bought a large one, gave it to Bento, and told him to please share with his mother. We were shocked a month later when we brought the new supply of tea and sugar to learn from Vovo Theresa that Bento did not share the sugar with her the entire month! He kept it all to himself and she had to go without. Oh Bento...shame on you! And lesson learned for us in making future purchases for them. 

Our dear Bento died last year. It was heartbreaking. He had been sick for some time with a bad flu. The last time I saw him, he laid on his mat looking up at me with pleading eyes, calling "Mama. Mama." We made a plan with extended family to take him to hospital the next morning, but when we arrived, he had already passed. As heartbreaking as it was for us, I couldn't even begin to imagine how heartwrenching it would be for his mother. The extended family made the decision to not tell her until the day of the funeral. A wooden coffin was brought to the home and he was placed in it. I had to turn my head away as I watched the family carry Vovo Theresa from her room to his room to see him one last time. And I wept as I watched them carry her frail body back to her room again as it heaved with sobs. 

Bento was laid to rest and life continued on for Vovo Theresa. Yet now, she was really alone. With increasing frequency, we would arrive to find her shut inside her house, sleeping with the protective rocks holding the door shut. She never ever denied us entry. She always got up and moved them out of the way for us to come in. In time, she was not able to crawl to the door and move them. She didn't have the strength. So Delcio would reach under and push them until we could squeeze past the door. Yet she still greeted us by sitting up and doing her dance with her happy smile. Then it came to a point where she was not able to sit up anymore. She would lie on her mat and talk with us. There was no more dance in her. 

It did not come as an unexpected shock to receive the call from Delcio that she had passed away. But still, I cried. And then, I rejoiced. But then, what did come as an unexpected shock to me was the ugliest of thoughts that came creeping in. Had I really done enough? Couldn't I have done more? How many times did I not pull off the road and go back to visit her because I was busy? Why didn't I stop by on New Year's Eve last week with a treat for her? How was it that I didn't even know she was sick this week? I had done so little and could have done so much more. I could have taken more time to sit with her, not even to talk, just to be there with her. In my house, I have many empty water bottles that I kept to bring water to her on hot days. Why were they still there in my house? I should have taken them to her filled with cool water. So now, I found myself throwing them out, one by one, realizing that each one represented time with her that I no longer have. 

I share all of this not to have anyone comfort me saying that I did do a lot for her and blessed her. I know I did. And I realize these horrible thoughts were sent to make me feel badly. So I chose to turn these negative thoughts into more constructive ones by asking myself, "What can I learn from this?"

Visiting with these two barely recognized people who were truly "the least of these" has been the biggest honor and privilege of my life. I loved them dearly, and they loved me back. Not for the things I brought for them, but I know in my heart that they loved me because I SAW them and spent time with them. When I would go away for long periods of time to the US, upon my return, Vovo Theresa would be so happy. She worried about me when I was away and didn't visit. She worried something happened to me! Me! This little old woman worried about me! Bless her dear heart!

So...what have I learned? Because of Vovo Theresa, I am going to make a conscious choice followed up with conscious actions to BE there for the people in my life. I don't want to be a self-centered person who indulges myself. I don't want to be too busy or too lazy to give of my time. I want to be the person who is willing to go out of my way and out of my comfort to bless others. We live in a world where we are increasingly being isolated from each other. This is wrong. This is destructive. I want to be the person who stands against this and chooses to love others and be with others... touching them, talking with them, being with them, and being a blessing. 

Over the past year, I have struggled to get out of the car at Vovo Theresa's house, knowing I would not be hearing Bento calling out, "Mama! Mama!" Today, I find it hard to bear the thought of going to their humble home for the funeral tomorrow and not being greeted by my sweet Vovo. But I will go and pay my respects to honor this lovely saint...and I will then move on to be a better person by actively loving the people in my life. Because we do not always have more time to love them. So we must take advantage of the time we have now. I hope you will make the choice to do the same. 

The Best Present

The Christmas holidays bring many traditions to our families. Year after year, we celebrate this blessed and festive season by repeating these precious traditions. Some have been passed down to us from our parents and grandparents. Others are new ones that we create. Don and I have so many memories of the traditions our family of 5 celebrated every year….decorating the tree, baking cookies, making the kids wait at the top of the stairs on Christmas morning as their father made his coffee. But the one that I found the most meaningful was the packing of the Operation Christmas Child boxes for Samaritan’s Purse. Since 1993, more than 188 million Operation Christmas Child gift-filled shoeboxes have been distributed to children in more than 170 countries! 

 From the earliest Christmas that I can recall, we packed these OCC boxes with our children. First we let them choose the gender and age group for the child they wanted to bless. Then we took them shopping for items to fill the box. We purchased fun things like stuffed animals, toys, crayons, coloring books, stickers, jump ropes, and so much more. We also purchased needed items like soap, toothpaste, and a toothbrush. We placed each item in the box until it was filled. And then, we packed every available space left with candy, candy and more candy (which is now discouraged… and living in the hot African climate, I understand why they made this change!). On the top of the items, our children placed a letter and their photo for the child who would receive it. We even included our home address, hopeful that one day we might get a letter back! We put the lid on the box, taped it down for extra security, and wrapped the shoebox in bright, festive Christmas paper. Finally, we prayed for the child who would receive the box. The boxes were taken to our local church and shipped to the Samaritan’s Purse headquarters where they were distributed all over the world. 

 This family tradition has been taken up by my daughter and her husband who now pack OCC boxes with their children. I am so happy they do this. I loved the thought of giving joy to a child that we would never meet. I loved knowing that these boxes showed the child someone, somewhere out there in this big world loved them. I loved knowing that these boxes shared the joy of Christmas with a child. I loved knowing that each box also shared with a child the love of their Father in sending His only Son to be born in a stable and who would one day save all of mankind. 

 When we moved to Mozambique, one of my first thoughts was how great it would be to be on the receiving end of this OCC tradition. For years, we packed and sent off boxes. Now that I was in Africa, I could have the experience of passing out the boxes and seeing with my own eyes the joy of the children as they received them. I wrote an email to Samaritan’s Purse explaining who we were and requesting to receive OCC shoeboxes to distribute to the children with whom we work. I received a response saying that they were not distributing shoeboxes in Mozambique that year. Okay… 

 Not be deterred, I emailed Samaritan’s Purse the following year and got the same response. So I emailed again the following year… and the year after that and the year after that. I continued these emails for the next 9 years and finally realized that they were not coming to Mozambique, so I gave up. Wouldn’t you know that that very year, I saw posts from fellow missionaries here in Mozambique on Facebook and guess what they were doing…passing out OCC shoeboxes. WHAT?!?!?! The very first year I did not contact Samaritan’s Purse was the very first year they did actually distribute in Mozambique!!! I immediately got the contact information of the local representative and set a plan in action to ensure that our children would receive boxes the next year. 

 In July, our program administrator, Delcio, and our Sunshine House mothers who run our community children’s projects, Zelda, Ilda, and Catarina, all were to attend a full day seminar that would instruct them on the program and how to present not only the OCC shoeboxes to the children, but also how to present the story of why Jesus came along with a call to pray and accept Him as Lord of their lives. At the end of the training session, they would bring back the boxes for the 63 children in our care. BUT as fate would have it, the day before they were to attend, the president of Mozambique imposed new Covid restrictions that again shut down gatherings of any group of people larger than 15. I was beyond disappointed! The boxes were within my grasp and then ripped right out of it! 

 In September, the Covid restrictions were again relaxed and Delcio and our ladies were able to attend the training session. They brought back not only 63 OCC shoeboxes but also Portuguese Bibles and Portuguese Bible lesson books for children! THANK YOU SAMARITAN’S PURSE! Each child would also received a booklet entitled, “The Best Present”. It has been my joy to come upon our children reading this book in their homes on their own. We now had all we need to bless and train up our children.

In November, we ran the program with our children who live in our Sunshine Houses and with our three Beacons of Light community projects. The program began with the story of the fall of Adam and Eve and God's promise to send a Savor and continued through to the birth, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. 

The program ended with a call to prayer. 

After this, the children were each given a shoebox. 

They were asked to not open it until everyone had received their box. They sat so very patiently. 

I looked at their little faces and realized that they had no idea what joy they were about to open. These children come from very impoverished families. They rarely, if ever, receive a present. They had no clue what was in the box they were holding. Little did they know it was stuffed with carefully selected treats that were prayed over just for them. They were in for a big big surprise. 

 After all the children received their boxes, we led them in a prayer for the people who packed and sent the boxes. 

 After the final “Amen”, we told them they could open their boxes on the count of 3. We counted 1- 2- 3 and they opened the boxes. Their eyes immediately went wide as they took in the sight. 

They began pulling out the items one by one, showing them to us and their friends. The excitement grew and grew as they pulled out more and more gifts. 

There were so many gifts that we had to work very hard to get them all packed in again when the children headed home. Some boxes had photos of the families, groups and individuals who packed them. Some boxes had letters or cards. 

But there was one box only that had an address offering the chance to connect back with the sender. Little Wesley had this box. 

It was sent from a girl named Amber who lived in Pennsylvania, not far from where I grew up! I asked Wesley if I could borrow the note to send a thank you email to the person who sent his box. He graciously accepted. I was so excited to connect with a sender and sent off an email to Amber that very night, along with photos of Wesley and his shoebox. I was surprised to not get back an immediate reply, and over time, I had forgotten about it. 

A month passed by until I saw an email in my inbox from her. I excitedly opened it to discover it was not from her, but from her mother. I was stunned as I read her words… 

 Thank you so much for your email to Amber. I'm her mom and we tragically lost our daughter in April of this year at 14. Your email came at a time when we desperately needed some encouragement and to see her handwritten note. God certainly knew the timing. We're so glad that you chose to respond and we will treasure these photos. :) 

 My husband and I are Area Coordinators for Operation Christmas Child Allegheny County in Pennsylvania and we've also been packing boxes for 12-13 years. Amber and our 11 year old son have grown up packing so they really don't know what it would be like to not have Operation Christmas Child in their lives. I remember Amber talking about the particular box that Wesley is holding. She packed it at a packing party we had that year. She always loved fitting in as many items as possible and really enjoyed the challenge of fitting in large stuffed animals. One of us also made the bracelet that she chose to send in that box. We've always taken time to make jewelry for our own boxes each year as well as the packing parties that we are a part of. 

 Again, thank you for your email. God used it to help carry us through our collection season this year in order to help pack over 600 boxes at our packing party and to help facilitate the sending of over 13,000 shoeboxes from our county this year. We pray that each of the recipients will be blessed and will come to know Christ as their Saviour if they do not already. We'll continue to pray for little Wesley and for all the children that you and your husband are blessed to serve through your company. 

 This was not at all what I was expecting! Even now, I don’t even know how to process this. My heart aches for this family. I wrote back an email to this mother expressing my sorrow for her loss and my appreciation for her note to me. I now understand why this Amber’s note made it to my hands…out of all the other thousands of hands it could have landed in any country around the world. Unlike the many unanswered notes my children and I had sent over the years, Amber’s note arrived in hands capable of writing back. The email response that her note prompted was never meant for her eyes. All along, God had a plan. He knew that her parents needed this note and that it would bring them comfort as they grieved the loss of their daughter. 

If you take a look, this photo I took of Wesley shows him holding the bracelet that Amber had lovingly made. I remember him pulling it out of the box and showing it to me. Of all the items in that box, he was the most drawn to this handmade bracelet. He knew how special it was. And now her family knows it ended up with a very appreciative little boy. 

 As I celebrate Christmas this year, my heart is full of appreciation and joy for all of the people who make the Operation Christmas Child program a success. My family’s Christmas tradition of packing these boxes has now come full circle...and Samaritan’s Purse will not be getting any more email requests from that persistent, crazy lady in Mozambique who refuses to give up! At least for a few years. Their goal is that every child will receive a box once in their lifetime. So I will have to wait until we have all new children in our community projects to have this program again…but as soon as we do, they will be hearing from me!

PROJECT SUNSHINE...THE DAWN OF A NEW WAY

In July 2021, we took on this cute little guy, Ivan, along with his older brother, Dario, and sister, Anabela. My recent blog,"They Are Worth It All" https://sunshineinafrica.blogspot.com/, shares the story of their homecoming with our foundation. 

My writing today is not as much about Ivan as it is about the desperate medical needs of so many people here in Mozambique. Ivan has gross motor skills deficiencies making it cumbersome for him to walk and run properly. He literally does not bend his hips or knees when he walks. We have taken him to doctors for a diagnosis as to why he walks this way. There is no physical cause for this, so we have been advised to take him for physical therapy to teach him to walk correctly. 

We have pursued this therapy through the public health care system. Ivan goes every Tuesday and Thursday for an “appointment” at the local Provincial Hospital. I put the word appointment in quotation marks because it really is not an appointment. Consults of any kind in Mozambique are first come, first serve. Because of this, everyone arrives very early at the hospitals and clinics so that they have a chance of seeing a doctor before the day’s end. By early, I mean very early…as in the wee hours of the day before the clinic even opens. It has broken my heart in the past to drive by clinics and see scores and scores of men, women, and children lined up outside waiting. Then you drive by hours later and still see them there…waiting. There are not enough doctors and nurses to meet the need, and many will go home unattended at the end of the day. 

My first experiences with people’s medical struggles came with several medical teams we hosted to conduct outreaches. We would set up our tables and chairs and then they would come…by the hundreds. They lined up and sat on the ground. After a while, so many had come that there no longer was a line, but a sea of people sitting patiently on the ground. Each one hoped to see the doctor. Each one hoped to get a medication that would cure them. But all we were able to do was put a “Band-Aid” on their illness. We could give them a medication that made them feel better for that day or the next week, but there would be no one to follow up and continue their treatment. I remember looking down the line of people in plastic chairs. They all had such hope in their eyes. Inside, I cried for them. I knew we could only do so much, and that wasn’t very much at all. 

At one medical outreach, the sun was setting and people were still coming! We had to put a grass mat over the door to stop more people from entering. We would not be able to take any other patients that day. All these people who walked for miles to seek attention would now have to turn around and walk home again in the dark. 

At another medical outreach, when the end of the day came, there were still hundreds of people sitting under the shade of a very large tree who had been waiting all day. Our tireless doctor has diagnosed and treated hundreds, but it did not make a dent in the need. When it was announced that we would not be able to see any more people that day, there were no complaints or murmurs. They had been in this situation countless times before. They all quietly got up and made their way home. 

At the end of our third medical team outreach, I swore I would never do another medical outreach like this again. They didn’t solve or help anything, and they left me feeling that there had to be a better way. 

Now I find myself in a public hospital setting right outside the capital city with Ivan. You would think the situation would be better here, but I see the same thing. There are hundreds of people lined up on chairs in the waiting room, lining the walls of the halls, sitting side by side along the courtyard…so much for social distancing.

We take Ivan to the Physical Therapy section of the hospital. It is the same situation there with people lined up in chairs with their crutches and others in wheelchairs and then there were those, like us, who arrived too late to snag a chair, leaning against the walls…and we wait and we wait and we wait.

Eventually an attendant comes out and collects the medical cards that each patient has placed in the box outside the door. One by one, names are called and people start to go in. After about an hour, Ivan’s name is called. We go in but all of the doctors are busy, so Ivan is told to go through the series of exercises he has been taught. He dutifully performs his squats...

 ...and goes up and down a set of stairs over and over until he tires out....

He then goes to the back room where he practices walking between two bars while watching himself in the mirror to check his posture. 

At one point, his doctor does come to check in on him. She clearly has more patients than time. So, she gives him an encouraging word about how well he did today and tells him she will see him next week. 

Almost 3 hours had passed since we entered the hospital, and we now found ourselves leaving without any real interaction with a doctor. As we left, the hundreds of people are still filling the chairs of the main waiting room and lining the halls of the corridors and courtyards. It appeared just as crowded as it was when we entered earlier. 

I have even experienced such patient endurance myself in the private sector. I called to make an appointment with a doctor at the private hospital. When I asked for an appointment time, I was told to come at 8:00 am. I arrived at 7:45 to a corridor lined with people. Apparently, the doctor begins seeing patients at 8:00; it wasn’t that I had an appointment at 8:00. So, I took my place in the last chair. For the next few hours, I moved along with the others advancing from chair to chair to chair as each person went into the examining room. I finally had my turn at 11:45! 

So, why do I share all of this? This all points to the next step in our work here in Mozambique. It is the main reason Don and I came 10 years ago. We came to implement Project Sunshine...a holistic approach to come alongside the cashew farmers and provide a better life for them and their families. As we head out into the villages to begin Project Sunshine, we hope to provide must needed relief for people. Here is a link to a video that best explains it all... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qEEmM-_tVQA&t=8s  Attached to each mini-factory in the villages, we will provide a transformation center where people can easily access the help they need right where they live. They will not have to travel long distances walking under the hot Africa sun or on overstuffed transports to get to a clinic where they will wait with all the crowds of other people who also have travelled from all over to receive medical attention. This is the Sunshine Approach. A model that will alleviate the suffering of people in remote areas and give them a hands-up to a better life and a brighter future for them and their children. This is why we gave up everything to come to Mozambique. We are very excited to finally get this project underway, and we are excited to take you with us along the way. We will be sure to keep you updated on progress!