Four Less Abandoned Children

Our Sunshine family continues to grow! We are now the proud parents of 30 children! Everyone on our Sunshine Approach Foundation staff… Don, me, Delcio, and Celia, see these kiddos as our own. It is our privilege to invest in them, raise them, and prepare them for adulthood just as we would do this for our own biological children. At times, they delight us and make us proud. At times they do stupid things, and we hurt to see them hurt from the consequences. It is our joy to watch them grow and flourish. Each of our children have come with a story that is filled with abandonment and suffering that most of us are blessed to never have to know personally. They come to us rejected, beaten down, hurt, and scared. Yet once we place them in one of our homes where they have a safe place to live, a mother to care for them, three solid meals a day, an education, and medical care, they transform and get to become children again. 

Today I have the pleasure of introducing you to our four newest family members… Marcia, age 15 in grade 8, Vasco, age 13 in grade 7, Katia, age 11 in grade 6, and Yusna, age 8 in grade 3. Their father died about three years ago. Two years ago, their mother told them that she was going out to get something for them, and she never came back. 

For a time, they continued to live in their home. A friend of their deceased father was paying for their rent. But it soon became clear that he was not just being kind but that he had ulterior motives regarding the oldest girl, Marcia. A neighbor intervened and offered an abandoned house on their property in which they could live. 

I made mention above of their grade levels in school because it has been no small feat for them to continue and keep up with their education. This demonstrates their tenacious desire to be educated, and I am very impressed. They had no one to wake them in the morning, prepare their breakfast or lunch and see them off to school. (Hmmm…I wonder if my own children would have gotten up and gone to school every day if I had not been there to make them go. I remember having to resort to squirting my son with a water gun to get him moving in the morning.) They had no one to check in on whether they completed their homework or studied for an upcoming test. They had no one to buy them a new uniform or book bag at the beginning of each year. They had no one to provide them with school supplies or shoes. They have had no one to tuck them into bed and pray with them at night. But they have independently tweaked out a life for themselves and stayed in school. This inspires me! 

When Delcio and I arrived at their house on a chilly but sunny Mozambican winter’s day, all four children were busy with chores. There was no adult to instruct them as to what needed done. They all know what needs done, and they do it. 

Marcia was preparing the fixings for their lunch- matapa, the leaves of the casava plant which are smashed to a fine consistency and boiled with crushed peanuts and coconut, then served over rice or xima (a corn-based flour that reminds me of thick grits). 

Vasco was collecting sticks for the fire over which Marcia would cook the matapa. Katia was sweeping the floors of their house. Yusna was washing the pots from yesterday’s meal. 

We visited with the children who continued their chores until they were finished, talking with them as they worked. I learned that Marcia and Vasco dream of becoming civil engineers. Katia wants to be a police woman, and Yusna's dream is to become a teacher. 

Once done, the younger three children joined their friends who were in their yard playing a game. The game reminded me of a mixture of Dodgeball and Monkey-in-the-Middle. Two children stood apart from each other with another child in the middle. The middle child had a pile of sticks at his feet. The outer two children threw a sack filled with sand to each other while the child in the middle tried to avoid being hit. The objective for the middle child was to throw out the pile of sticks, one at a time, before getting hit with the sack. If the middle child was hit by the sack, he took his place on the outside and the lucky child who hit him took his place in the middle with the sticks. They laughed as they played. I noted that not once did a child fight, argue, or squabble about anything. There were no adults there to referee or intervene, and they played nicely on their own. 

At the end of our visit, we had to leave the children in their current circumstance until they finished the semester exams at school and received their grades. In the meantime, we returned to Matola to prepare the transfer documents to their new school and to prepare their new home with Monica. 

All of our homes are special, but this home, Sunshine House 7, has a special story behind it. Many years ago, my husband, Don, worked at Hershey Chocolate with a colleague, Cindy Hutchinson. She has followed our social media posts to keep  updated on our journey to Mozambique and our work. Often she and her husband, Mark, have donated generously to our foundation. Along the way, she shared our story with her aunt, Catherine Pentz, lovingly called Aunt Sis by all who know her. Aunt Sis took a fondness to our Sunshine families. She has been so kind in supporting our children and mothers in multiple ways. She remembers them in her prayers each day. 

When I am home in the US, I always visit with Aunt Sis. She is a “must see” for me! She knows each child and asks about each one by name! Aunt Sis, who will soon turn 97 years young, once told me that she now has two things to live for…to see her nephew (whom she raised as her own son graduate from college) and her family in Mozambique. It was Aunt Sis who donated the money to build Sunshine House 7. When I shared with her that this would be our 7th house, she was so excited because the number 7 has great significance to her. She gifted us with the statue of a little boy wearing a jersey with the number 7 on it. This statue has been in her home for many years, and now it is proudly displayed directly in front of anyone who enters the door of Sunshine House 7. 

From the day we purchased the land until the day we moved in the widow who will be the mother for this family, I have sent Aunt Sis photos to keep her involved. I am beyond happy to know that TODAY I can now send her photos of the four children who are going to live happy, safe, prosperous lives because of her! 

On Friday, August 18th we were able to go and bring Marcia, Vasco, Katia, and Yusna home. The night before we went to get them, I was thinking about them and wondering what it must be like for them in their little house that night. What were they thinking about? What were they talking about? How did they feel? Were they packing and preparing to leave?

My questions were quickly answered when we arrived at their house on Friday morning. They didn't even know we were coming for them! They were doing their regular chores while friends waited in the yard outside to play. We shared with them that we were there to bring them with us, and they didn't even hesitate but immediately set about packing all of their possessions in the baskets we had brought with us. They were ready to go! All that was left was for the case worker to sign the documents with the local village leaders.

Then we were ready to go! The children said their goodbyes to their friends and without looking back, climbed into the back or our van. We took our traditional coming home photo of them. They were all smiles!

Today the children moved from this...

To this...

From this...

To this...

From this...

To this...

Marcia, Vasco, Katia, and Yusna settled in nicely to their new home today. Their new mother, Monica, was ecstatic to have them join her in the home. Pretty much every one of our other Sunshine children came to meet them. It was the most joyous of days. 

Tonight, as I write this blog, I am overwhelmed with emotion as I picture them going to bed in a real bed, with a pillow to lay their head on and a warm blanket with which to cover themselves. They are going to bed with a full belly and no worries about whether they will have anything to eat tomorrow. For the first time in two years, they have a mom to tuck them in and pray with them. These are things we take for granted, but we must remember that these things are a privilege that many children in this world do not have. Thanks to our donors and sponsors like Aunt Sis who do remember this, there are four less abandoned children in this world tonight.

I Spy with my Little Eye...

You all know the game of “I Spy” right? So let’s play… 

I spy, with my little eye... hope that will provide for generations of people to come! 

Look carefully. Look very carefully. Do you see it? 

Right now it doesn’t look like much except a barren field, but at each wooden stake in this field is planted a cashew sapling. In 3-5 years, this sapling will start producing cashews. These cashews will provide income for the family that owns and farms this plot of land for 25 years to come! 

Let’s play again. 

I spy, with my little eye… 

DINNER! 

This one was easier to find. This plant is a nutritious meal when served over rice. It is called ortalissa, but the local people call it matsavu. Its leaves and squash will provide many good meals for a family. In the midst of the cashew trees provided to the 300 families in our community farm in Muchenguentava are planted intercrops. Seeds such as beans, peanuts, and pineapple were provided so the families can grow food to eat now while they wait for their cashew trees to produce income. 

Sarah Mugabe is the head of one of these families. I had the privilege of meeting Sarah on my most recent trip to our Sunshine Villages Project in Muchenguentava. Sarah and her nephew have begun planting the 470 cashew saplings that they will receive as part of this project on their 2 hectare plot of land. Sarah comes twice each week to water the saplings and tend the land so that it doesn’t get unruly and overgrown. 

When we arrived out on the 600 hectare Project Sunshine community farm, it was quiet and desolate. It looked like everyone had gone home for the day. But then I turned around and there right behind me stood this sweet woman. Her toothless grin melted my heart. She was so little; if she were to stand on her tippy tippy toes, she would only reach the height of my shoulders at best. She had been tending her saplings but stopped to come greet us. 

Again and again, I am humbled by the happiness and fortitude of the Mozambican people. While the rest of the world looks on them as poor and suffering, they are anything but this. They are content with what they have. They take joy in the simplest of things; the things that we take for granted. They are willing to work harder than any of us Westerners ever would work, and they will go to lengths we would never even consider. Sarah, for example, walks five kilometers to get to her family plot on the community farm. I daresay most of the people reading this blog would do that. She then works under the hot African sun planting, watering, and tending to the trees. When her work is complete, she walks another five kilometers back down the deep sand road to her home. Why does she do this? Because she receives hope for the future of her family and dignity in working for it. 

I absolutely adore the elderly Mozambicans. I truly want to just bring them all home to live with me. So, any chance I get to sit and chat with one of these dear people, I do just that! I always begin by asking them how old they are. Very few are able to answer this question. Birthdays are not celebrated here like in other parts of the world, so they often lose track. She was able to remember that she was born in 1945. I did the math and was shocked to calculate that she is 78 years old. She looked healthy and strong and much younger than this. When we asked to take a photo of her, she immediately put her hoe to the ground and took a pose like she was working. There is no doubt she is proud of her work. When asked what her secret to old age is, she responded, “To love God.” 

Sarah was born, raised, and has lived her whole life in Muchenguentava. She has raised four children who have all gone off to pursue their own lives. Her husband has died, leaving her a widow. She said that at one time she did have work, but now she has nothing and no money. She knows the value of her plot of land and the trees she has planted there. Those trees will provide a nice life for her. This is why she happily tends to them, despite the effort in doing so. She promised us that she would work very hard to care for her trees and help them become fruitful. We asked her what she would do with her money once the trees mature and she can harvest and sell their cashews. She said that she wants to add on more rooms to her house. Don shared with her that his hope is that she will be able to add 10 bedrooms onto her house! She lit up with the biggest of smiles and giggled. 

It is people like Sarah for whom the Sunshine Villages Project was created. This has been my husband’s dream for over a decade. It is everything he has worked and strived for. It has been my privilege to walk alongside him and to see the joy in his face and the tears in his eyes as he sees his dream for the poor farming families of Mozambique becoming a reality. He is not doing this for himself. He will gain no material rewards from this project. He is doing it for Sarah and hundreds more families like hers. For the both of us, this is a far greater reward than riches.

My Easter Joy...Resurrected

When a holiday is approaching, I begin searching online for crafts, games, and activities that I can do with our Sunshine children. I want our holiday parties to be fun and memorable. Yet every time, it is beyond challenging for me to find crafts, snacks, and games for which we have the supplies here. Oh what I wouldn't do to have a Dollar Store or Hobby Lobby craft store nearby!!! 

Two weeks ago, I began searching online for Easter ideas made with supplies we have available for purchase here. I came up empty time and time again. 

I found a great project where you put blue painters' tape on paper, paint the paper with watercolor paints, and then remove the painter's tape to reveal the cross underneath. But...no blue painter's tape here. I only could find masking tape, which tears the paper. 

There were lots of necklaces and bracelets to be made with beads and crosses on them. But...no such materials here.

There were crosses that you bedazzled with sparkly stickers. But...no bedazzling supplies here.

I found the resurrection eggs that can be used to retell the story of Easter. But...there are no plastic eggs here.

I found the Jelly Bean Prayer in which the colors of the jelly beans represent different parts of the Easter story. But...our jelly beans only have the basic colors- no purple, no pink, no white.

I began to fret and whine. How could I have a party without party supplies? Ohhhhh how I wish we had some fun craft supplies.  Ohhhh how I wish I could acquire all of those cute little bunny, chick, and egg novelties that we take for granted in the USA for being available each year for Easter. Our children would love them! I was frustrated and just plain bummed-out!

And then...I had this wake-up call last Saturday.

I was CONVICTED beyond conviction as I came upon one of our children literally passed out in a chair instead of outside playing on her Saturday afternoon . This precious, sleeping child re-taught me what Easter should be about. Yes, I already knew this season is about the crucifixion, death, and resurrection of our Lord, Jesus Christ. But what I didn't know was how much I still cling to the Easter traditions I was raised on. I still was hanging onto the materialism of bunnies, eggs and baskets. I still held the incorrect assumption that these things make Easter better. I tried to hold the world and my faith in the same hand, but the world was taking over the faith. As I looked upon this sleeping child, I realized that she realizes this so much more than I do. 

You see, here in Mozambique, people prepare for Easter by attending all-night prayer and worship vigils- not by hoarding up scads of candy, novelties, and toys for Easter baskets. Our 8 year-old Fatima had attended a vigil the previous night with her Sunshine family. Now, she was sound asleep in the afternoon. Fatima had given her whole night to Jesus. She knows the true meaning of Easter. She doesn't need an Easter basket, a chocolate bunny, or plastic eggs. She's got better. The bunnies, peeps, and eggs take away the joy we should be able to find in Jesus alone. 

We are having our Easter celebration tomorrow with our Sunshine children. We will watch a video that retells the Easter story. We will not have resurrection eggs, but resurrection bags with the verses and symbols in each one. I rewrote the Jelly Bean Prayer to include the colors of jelly beans that come in our bags. We will focus on Jesus and His finished work on the cross. There will be no bedazzled crosses, no plastic eggs, and no chocolate bunnies. But there will be hearts that rediscover how very much their Father God loves them. Isn't this so much more valuable than anything else?

A Day to Celebrate Hope

Our long awaited Sunshine Villages Project is well underway in Mozambique. Cashew seeds have been planted and grown into saplings in the nurseries and are now being planted on the community-owned farms. In 3-5 years, these trees will be producing a yield that will provide lasting sustainability for the families for generations to come. If each family cares for their trees, grows them to full capacity, shells the cashews in the community mini-factory, and sells them to Sunshine Nut Company at the market price, their annual income will grow from $33 USD per year to $4,700 USD per year! The project is currently up and running in two villages in the southern province of Gaza and in six villages in the northern province of Cabo Delgaddo. In accordance with Mozambican business tradition, we recently held the opening ceremony for the government and community to celebrate the official opening of the Gaza project. The best way to share the events of this day is with the photos we took. 

This may not look like much, but under this protective canvas are over 100,000 cashew saplings. 

Each of these tiny saplings represents hope for current and future generations of families.

All lined up along the nursery, local leaders (chefes) and community guests await the arrival of the governor of the province and the administrator of the district. They arrived in a caravan of motor vehicles, led by a well-armed crew of police and secret servicemen. They came along the line to individually greet each person. 

Government officials, including the governor of Gaza Province, Margarida Sebastiao Mapandzene Chongo, the district administrator, local chefes, and their staffs were given a tour of the nursery. It was rewarding to see our staff of Mozambicans conducting the tour and interacting with the government officials. Here Sitoe is explaining the details of growing the saplings. 

Next we led the motorcade out 5 kilometers more into the bush to show them the Sunshine Villages Farm Project. This land is to be kept in the name of the community and belongs to them. Each family is given 2 hectares of land and will plant 476 cashew trees on their plot. The governor herself planted a tree that will benefit the community.

Wherever the governor went, the armed police and her secret service people were always on the look out for her safety. 

Next we traveled to the site where the mini-factory will be built. Our project manager, Amade, shared the plans with the governor as Papa Don, the visionary behind it all, looked on. 

Is he cute or what?

The governor put on work gloves, a construction helmet and vest and laid the first two cement blocks for the factory. We all agreed she would make a fine mason!

And then came the speeches. First, the local chefe...

and more and more speeches...

...and we couldn't leave out a speech by Papa Don!

Next came the signing of a Memorandum of Understanding between the government of Gaza and Sunshine Approach Foundation to work together to uplift the farming community.

The community members that have been employed by the foundation to clear and prepare the land for the nursery and farm sang and danced. They were so proud of their work for this project and for their community. 

Not to be outdone, the ladies of the community also sang, danced, and presented the governor with a basket of ata (a local fruit) and cashews. 

Last came a lunch fit for a king! Everything was prepared by the women and men of the community. 

Don and I had the privilege of joining the governor at the head table. 

At the end of the day, one of our employees presented Papa Don with cashews from the tree that grows in her yard. A precious gift that came from a thankful heart. 

Precious in His Sight

Psalm 116:15 “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His faithful servants.” 

On December 27, 2022, our beloved Zelda passed from this world into eternity. I am still trying to process it all. I am still trying to figure out how to do life without her in it. We all know that death is a part of life; it will come to us all, and we will helplessly watch as it comes to those we love. Yet when we are faced head-on with the death of a loved one, it is like a “sucker punch” to our gut. I have put off writing about Zelda for months. It is like my final goodbye to her. In my heart, I didn’t want to face this, but it is time.

Zelda had been struggling with health issues for a period of time. She was very private about it all. In the end, it was discovered too late that she had stage 4 kidney failure. She did not suffer long. She fell seriously ill and was admitted to hospital on a Thursday and died the following Tuesday. In fact, she was talking, laughing, and eating with the other Sunshine mothers who daily visited her and brought her soup. God in his mercy did not let her suffer. But this made it all the more of a shock for all of us. We were under the impression that she was improving and would pull out of it, but we were wrong. God called her home. 

I was in the United States when I received the message from my colleague, Delcio, “Please. Be strong. Zelda is no longer alive.” It was over an hour until I could even remove my hand from my mouth. The shock was so intense. I could only keep repeating, “No.” again and again. It just couldn’t be. How could this amazing woman of God who gave completely and selflessly of herself each and every day be gone. She had so much yet to live for! 

I was due to fly back to Mozambique the following week. I felt heartsore to not be in Mozambique to grieve alongside our Sunshine family and her family. I wanted to be there to hold the children and to cry with them. Yet a wise friend impressed upon me that God had a plan, that God knew this would happen and how it would happen, and that for His reasons, He chose for me to be away and come in at a later time. I trusted that He would use me when He needed me there. And He did. 

When someone first dies, we are surrounded by well-meaning people as well as gifts of flowers and food. Yet this all fades away in the days following the funeral. This is just when I would be arriving, and so I began preparing myself to return to a very different Mozambique than I had left. I began praying, seeking, and discerning how to minister to the many mothers and children who were mourning Zelda, how to help us all move on in a way that would honor her. The trouble was, I first had to minister to myself in dealing with her loss before I could minister to others, and I just could not find a way to make any sense of her death. 

I don't think it is even possible to share who Zelda was and what Zelda meant to us all. 

She was our first Sunshine mother. The first woman to embark on this grand vision God gave us to care for orphans and widows in their distress… what the Bible describes as true religion accepted by God as pure and faultless. We’ve done a lot of learning together over the years. She has undoubtedly had the most input and influence on our Sunshine House program of anyone. Our program is what it is today because of Zelda. 

Zelda has loved and cared for literally hundreds of children in her community projects. She was the reason we started the Beacons of Light Community Projects for preschool aged children. It was a natural decision since all of the children from the community were always in her yard playing anyway! They knew they were in a safe place where they were loved. 

Zelda was an example and a voice of wisdom for all of our Sunshine mothers. They looked to her for all things. All things. 

Zelda was an anchor for Delcio and me. She was our "source". She was a model for everything. We could go to her with any question or request. She was always there. She was sound, stable, and full of wisdom. Even now, I catch myself constantly saying, “Ask Zelda” or “Let’s call Zelda” when we face an issue. 

Zelda was a friend. But so much deeper than that. She was so special. I've spent so many hours with her. As I reflect on the time we sat together doing the most simple of things- combing through a child's hair, shelling beans, or waiting at hospital consults, I am even more moved by the quiet impact she has had on my life that I didn't even realize. 

Zelda was held in esteem by all those in the community. They often came to her for assistance of many kinds. It was a rare day to not see someone at her gate. Even the children of the community looked to her. So often when we were there, we could see little ones kneeling down and peering under the crack of the gate to see what was going on in her yard. 

Zelda began her life calling as the mother of Cecilia, Madalena, and Antonio in 2015. It was not easy to be the “instant mother” of a teenager, an angry young girl, and the sorrowful toddler who all had just experienced the death of both their mother and father. Zelda stood firm in her calling over the years- loving each one of them back to life and holding them to the same standards with which she was raised. I can see her now in Cecilia, the oldest child she raised in Sunshine House 1. Cecilia is truly her daughter. I see Zelda’s righteousness and inner strength in Cecilia. I love being around Cecilia for the same reasons I always loved being around Zelda- you could trust her and laugh with her, knowing she did not have any hidden agendas and that she wanted nothing from you except your companionship. 

Two years ago, when our foundation was faced with the challenge of accepting a physically challenged little girl who could not walk, it was Zelda who took her in. Having a physically challenged family member in Mozambique is considered a curse on the family. But Zelda did not care; she did not hesitate in accepting Anabela into the family and committing to the effort it took to care for her. Accepting Anabela also meant taking in her teenaged brother on his holidays from the program he attended during the school year as well as providing a home for their 8-year-old brother, Ivan. Ivan adored Zelda even more than the cake icing she would allow him to lick from the bowl after making a cake. To this day, he stops by the house on his way home from school most days. He just sits there for awhile. Being there is soothing for him. 

Zelda loved God. Her life showed her awe and respect for Him. She lived her life to serve Him in whatever capacity to which He called her. When she was young, she wanted to be a nun. She went for training but had to leave the program and return home due to an illness. She was willing to give her life to God. He just had other things in mind for her. He called her to be a mother to our children instead of being a sister to the church. For this, we are grateful. 

Zelda was righteous. She stood by her values and never clouded her decisions. She did what was right and required this of her children as well. You always knew where she stood…and it was on very solid ground. 

On her birthday, our Sunshine family gathered together to honor her life. Each child wrote a letter telling what she meant to them. Many tears were shed as they read these letters and presented them to her children, Cecilia, Madalena, and Antonio. We then gave God thanks and praise for the time He allowed her to be a part of our lives. Finally, we shared the birthday cake that should have been hers on this day. It was most certainly not as beautiful or tasty as the ones she so lovingly baked for us over the years, but this is just another part of her that we now must do without. 

Shortly after my return to Mozambique, we travelled to pay our respects to Zelda’s relatives at their family home in Manjacaze. Manjacaze is almost a five hour drive from our home in Matola. Once we arrived there, it was another hour of traveling back back back long and dirty and bumpy roads until we arrived deep in the bush bush at the home where she grew up. The words I think of to describe the family land are “precious” and “quaint”. A grouping of cement rondavels with thatched roofs formed a circle on the land. An outdoor kitchen was behind them. The homes and the property were very well maintained. It was clear that her family loved, respected, and valued their land. 

Her family was so kind to us as they welcomed us and showed us to the family burial plot. It was set on the back of their property. The burial plots were as beautifully maintained as their homes- neat, clean, and surrounded with flowering plants. We stood around Zelda’s recently dug grave and prayed. In Mozambican custom, each of us planted a flower on the mound of dirt and watered it. It was heart wrenching to be at her gravesite. For the first time it truly hit me that she was no longer with us, nor would she be coming back. 

We walked back to where their houses were located. They set out the plastic chairs for us to sit on, appropriately placed under the shade of a cashew tree. The women sat on grass mats on the ground next to us. We met her father, sisters, aunts, and uncles. One of her sisters so resembled Zelda that I could not even look her way without tears forming in my eyes. They served us a lunch of chicken, xima, and rice- giving us the very best of what they had to offer. As we talked, I looked around and took in the tranquility and beauty of this place in the bush bush. I could imagine Zelda as a young girl, running and playing with her sisters. I felt so at peace there with her family. I now realized how growing up here with this family made her who she was. I was beyond thankful that God gave her to us for a time so that she could pass on these qualities to her Sunshine children and Beacons of Light children. Zelda is physically gone from us, but she lives on in us as well. 

Everyone here knows that I always called Zelda, “my angel”. She truly was my angel and an angel for so many others as well. We miss her terribly. We still cry tears for her. We still refer to the house as “Zelda’s House”. We still feel led to call and ask her questions. We still wish so very much that she was here with us. But as I told the children on the day we celebrated her birthday in January, the best way we can honor her memory and impact is to live lives that would make her proud of us. So this is what we have all committed to do. We will move forward and carry her with us in our hearts knowing that our separation from her is only for a time. I have no doubt that she will be waiting for us to welcome us to heaven with the same warmth and love with which she accepted children into her home.

A Forever Home for Carla and Pinto

One of the first lessons Mozambique ever taught me was that a day never goes the way you expect it to go. Nothing is never any truer than on the days we go to bring children home to one of our houses. We plan out the day…travel to where the children are, put them in the car, take them shopping for clothes, and have them in their new home by the early afternoon. Sounds so simple, doesn’t it? Not! These days of collecting children are fraught with delays, detours, and unexpected events. Each of these days are different than the ones before them. None of them have ever been the same in the challenges we have faced. 

Case in point…our recent acceptance of this spunky pair of siblings, Carla and Pinto. 

We had received a call from Social Action for Women and Children asking if we had space for two children. At the time, we had space for three children and were about to finish the construction of our 6th house which would raise that number to nine. We responded with an enthusiastic, "YES!" They said they would get back to us. We immediately prepared beds so we would be ready for their arrival. And then began 7 weeks of daily calls to Social Action to ask for information regarding the children- Are they boys? Girls? How many? Siblings? Their ages? Each day, their answer was the same, “We don’t know yet. We are still preparing the documents.” This statement changed over the course of the seven weeks ranging from, “We don’t know.” … to “The documents have been lost, and we must start the process over again.” Our frustration grew by the day. 

Rarely has the information they have given us been correct. For example, we were once told there was a 5 and 8 year old pair of sibilings to place. We arrived to discover a 13 and 12 year old boy and an 11 year old girl. Another time we were told it was a trio of sisters, aged 13, 11, and 9. We arrived to a 16 and 8 year old boy and a 10 year old girl. Hmmmm…so when they finally told us they had documents to place an 8 and 4 year old pair of siblings with us, one a boy and one a girl, but they didn’t know which one was which…we were skeptical. Who knew what we would discover when we showed up. 

The day finally arrived when we could go collect the children and bring them home! The children were in Moamba, an hour drive for us. We left early at a good time and were expecting a good day…silly us! Delays, detours, and misinformation left us wondering if we would come home empty handed at the end of the day. 

The children were being placed with our foundation because they were at risk living with their elderly grandmother. She was no longer capable to provide safe care for them due to her dementia. Her house was in a village named Tenga. It was a long and challenging drive through flooded, muddy roads. Thankfully our 4-wheel drive van was able to get through. We arrived at the grandmother’s house. Her house and the surrounding yard were tidy and neatly cared for. Lines in the dirt evidenced that the yard had been freshly raked. Chickens were meandering about looking for crumbs to eat. Dishes from the day before were washed and neatly stacked to dry. The wash was done and hanging on the line in the morning sun. It was a peaceful place.

In usual Mozambican hospitality, she brought out every plastic chair she owned for us to sit in the shade of a tree. She herself sat on the ground before us. We soon discovered that only one of the children were there, but it wasn’t clear which one. Then it came out that none of the children were there. So the first order of business was to determine where the children physically were located. We learned that the little girl had been removed by the government for her safety. The little boy had been taken in by some ladies from the grandmother’s church. The grandmother broke down in tears. She had been asking for assistance from Social Action for months and had not received any help. Now that they were finally there to place the children, she began to regret her decision. She cried for fear that the children would be sold or killed. As we sat there, my colleague, Delcio, told me that when he was young, his parents taught him that if he saw white people, he was to run away. In the villages, they see white people as being traffickers who will steal their children away. I felt so sad thinking that she thought this of me. 

My heart went out to this poor woman who was so desperate and alone. I sat down on the ground next to her to share with her about our program. I showed her a photo of the home her grandchildren would live in. I told her about the nice school they would attend. I showed her photos of the other families we already have in our care. As we looked at photo after her photo and I told her about our children, she came to realize that she could trust us and that her grandchildren would be well cared for. Her only question to me was… “Will the children be raised to know God?” This was an easy question to answer as God is the foundation and purpose of all of our work. It was clear that she was a woman of faith and wanted her grandchildren to have faith as well. 

We all climbed into the car for a drive to where the little girl was being kept. We were guided to a local government office where we waited for the girl. As we waited under the shade of a large tree (on plastic chairs, of course), the caseworkers shared with us the concerns that led to the removal of the children. The grandmother vehemently denied them all. She in turn accused them of having a deaf ear to her requests for assistance. We also were told stories of the girl, Carla. They had tried placing her in school, but she would run away. She also had a tendency to wander off to a random house and take up residence saying she was going to stay and live there. I started to worry a bit about what we might be getting ourselves into. But past experience has taught me that the Lord leads us to each and every child placed with us. It is not Social Action who chooses the new children for our Sunshine family; it is God. He has a plan and a purpose for each child. 

As we waited, we never were told where she was staying, but eventually a man came down the road, forcefully ushering along a very distraught little girl. He had her by the arm and offered her no words of encouragement or consolation. He just pulled her along like an animal. I am forever amazed by the resilience of children. Can we even begin to imagine the trauma of experiencing the death of both our parents, then being forcibly removed from the only home we have ever known and from the grandmother who has been caring for us and taken to a strange place with people we don’t know? 

One thing I have witnessed with children is that family is family. It doesn’t matter how poorly a child has been mistreated, they still love their family and want to be loved by their family. When Carla saw her grandmother, she ran to her and climbed into her lap. My heart was moved to see them reunited and comforting each other through their tears. 

We returned to Grandmother’s house to complete the necessary documents. On our way, we gave Carla some cookies to snack on. Without hesitation, she gave half to her grandmother and ate the others herself. Already I could see what a sweet and thoughtful heart she had. After signing the documents, it was time to say goodbye and head back home. I felt so sorry for this grandmother, knowing she would now be alone in her little house with no children to keep her company. Carla climbed into our van and with a wave called out to her grandmother, “Vai com Deus!” (Go with God!) Yet again, she surprised me with her strong and joyful spirit. As we pulled away, Grandma turned and walked back alone to her house. 

As we travelled the hour drive back to Matola, Carla sat in the back of the van with me and my visiting friend, Julie. Carla took Julie’s phone and began looking at photos of her with her grandmother. As she handled the phone, music began to play. It was “Ave Maria”. She cuddled the phone into her chest, lay her head on my friend, and fell asleep. Julie was astonished saying that this song was not even downloaded on her phone; she had no idea how it came on. We rode along listening to the beautiful music and watching Carla sleep. As I took her in, the weight of it all came down on me. This little girl was now mine to raise. Her grandmother placed her in my care for life. I’ve brought home many precious children now, but for the first time, something about this homecoming impacted me in a new and powerful way. I felt so humbled. 

Now that Carla was placed in our care, and it was time to bring Pinto, her four-year-old brother, to join her as well. It was not as easy as it sounds. We got in touch with the ladies from the grandmother’s church who had taken him to live with them. They agreed to bring Pinto to live with Carla as long as we first took them all back out to Tenga and had the grandmother make a public apology. Apparently the grandmother had told the community that these ladies had stolen Pinto from her and were going to kill him or sell him. Their reputation had been tarnished and they wanted it restored. In the grandmother’s defense, they had never communicated their actions to her. They simply took the boy with them and didn’t tell her about it. So we did as the ladies asked, hauled everyone back out to Tenga to meet with the grandmother and the local chefe. Confessions and apologies were voiced by the grandmother and the ladies while the children played off to the side, completely unaware of the confusion that had been created. 

It was a precious sight to see these people reconcile with each other. Communication is for sure the key to relationship. We then left to return again to Matola...but this time with both children. Carla and Pinto settled in quickly at their new home with Zelda and their new siblings, Cecilia, Madalena and Antonio. Our original plan was to move them into our soon to be completed house #6 the next month. But the children bonded so well with Zelda that she asked to keep them with her. We agreed that this would be the best placement for them and left them together. They are a breath of fresh air in the household of teens. Carla is bright, spunky, and strong- willed. Pinto is just cute and fun to the core. They are both learning how to be a part of their new family. They are also now part of our larger Sunshine Family. Together we will love them and raise them up. It will be exciting to see what they become! 

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!