One Child

 Her name is Thulie. She is young, not even 40, but her body
is spent. Her emaciated frame is frail, her face hollow. AIDS is taking its
toll; little by little she’s fading away. Her voice comes and goes, and every
day she loses more weight.

She is the mother of four bright, beautiful children. Thabo
is 14, Sabelo is 10, and Nonhlanhla is 7. The youngest is almost 2- a precious
little boy named Senkhosi who stole my heart.

She has buried two husbands. Twice her companion has been
taken from her. Twice she has grieved. AIDS has widowed her and infected her.
Now the burden of her sickness and her family rests solely on her shoulders.
She wonders if maybe that’s why her health continues to decline…

Yet her worries do not end there. Every day her baby, sweet
Senkhosi, is in danger.

According to Swazi culture, widows are usually cared for by
the dead husband’s brother. This is the case with Thulie and her family- they
live on the homestead of her brother-in-law from her first marriage.
Unfortunately, Senkhosi was born during her second marriage. Because he is the
child of another man, he is not welcome on the homestead. The brother-in-law
hates him. He has promised Thulie if he finds the baby alone, he will kill him.

I can’t stand to think of it. I met Senkhosi my first week
in Swaziland. He was adorable, but he cried most of the day. Every time Thulie
got out of sight, he would scream hysterically- almost as if he could sense the
impending doom.

Our next afternoon together we played chase. I can still see
him in my mind, toddling away from me, but looking back every few seconds to
make sure I was still following him, still pursuing him, and then giggling with
glee. His laughter was the sweetest sound…

Everything in me breaks to know he is not safe. He is
growing up and becoming an active little boy, while AIDS continues to weaken
his mother. Everyday is gets harder for Thulie to care for him. I cannot bear
to think about what will happen to him when she dies.

I find myself praying crazy prayers. Prayers like, “Please
God just keep him safe and keep Thulie alive until I can find a way to care for
him!”  I live 9,000 miles away. I
can barely take care of myself. I don’t even have a permanent place to live
right now! How can I pray a prayer like that? But still, I have. I can’t help
it. My heart is broken for that precious little boy. I can’t bear to think of
him all alone, with no one to love and care for him. He should be held and
comforted, hug and kissed. He should be told “I love you” everyday. He should
have every opportunity to grow up happy and healthy. He should have a bright
future full of possibilities. 

But he will soon be an orphan – despised and rejected by his
mother’s family. What will happen to him then? Will he be cared for? Will he
have food and clothing? Will he have a home? Will he even survive?

These thoughts break me. I want to rescue him, to give him
love, hope, and a future. I want to save him from the desperate situation he is
in… and he is only one child. There are thousands like him –over 100,000 in
Swaziland alone. What can possibly be done?

As I begin to feel overwhelmed, I remember a conversation I
had with a woman my first week in Swaziland. Her name was Tami. She and her son
Nick were adopting a beautiful little girl from Swaziland. I was thrilled by
the news and began to listen as she shared her heart. “I believe every family
has room for one more child,” she said. “Just one more child- and I believe God
will provide for that family. If we all believed that, we could solve this
problem around the world! Think about it – if EVERY Christian family adopted
one child, there wouldn’t be orphans anymore.”

I was astounded. She was right! I truly believe that’s the
answer, but today, 6 months later, I wonder if we’re any closer to that
solution. How is it that I meet spoiled children everyday – children who have
everything they need and everything they want – yet there are 143 million
orphans around the world with no one to care for them? These beautiful, bright
children are being forgotten- pushed aside and ignored.  We stay here in our expensive homes,
driving our expensive cars, fulfilling every desire and we think if we never go
to Africa, or China, or India- if we never see these children- then maybe they
don’t exist.

One child.