Her Story

A frail and weak little girl walked into the center early from school. I had never seen her before. I guessed she could be no older than four. Barely able to hold her eyes open, she explained to Gogo Abner what was wrong. Her thin arms and bloated belly immediately made me aware she wasn’t receiving proper nutrition. My heart broke. Gogo Abner looked at me and said, “We must take this child to see the doctor, right away.” I scooped her up in my arms and held her as we drove to the hospital just up the street.

As we waited to see the doctor, I wept as I learned about her story. The child’s mother died of AIDS at the age of thirteen, just weeks after giving birth. Her father was never in the picture. Her Gogo took her in, despite the fact she had four children of her own at home under the age of eight whom she couldn’t keep fed. Unable to work because of a mental disability, her Gogo tried everything she could to provide for her five little girls. Every day, this devoted woman would go out to collect bottles and scraps of metal. At the end of each week, she would turn them into the junk yard in exchange for a small price.

The child would often go days without eating. When her Gogo was able to afford food, it was no more then some porridge, enough for one serving but it would have to feed the whole family. Their house was the size of a walk-in closet. The place they called home is the size of the place we keep our clothing. It was constructed of sheets of tin. Each night, the family of six would squeeze in to go to bed side by side. When it rained, the dirt floor would turn into mud. That same floor, is what they slept on.

From the day forward, I never wanted to let go of this little girl. I could hear God say, “Take care of this little one. She is mine.”

This is Lindo and this is her story.

Unfortunately, she's not the only one with a story like this.

She could be your little girl.

Will you do something to help?