Hope among suffering

 The most handicapped orphans are kept on the fifth floor of Saiqi orphanage, where they spend almost the entire day confined to uncomfortable wooden boxes -- "cribs" -- which they share with one or two other infants.  Some of the babies are so painfully tiny, premature, and delicate that when I first arrived at Saiqi (in Summer 2007) and held them in my arms I was afraid to move a muscle.  I couldn't help but think that there was so little that I (or anyone else) could do for these children, and I had never felt so helpless. They had not been given a chance in life, and I could not help but cry openly as I first held a few of them in my arms.

    Poverty and suffering in other countries are difficult for us to conceive, let alone personalize. But when it's in front of you, in your arms, it's the only truth for that moment in time. The inescapable realities of life in places like Saiqi are those of extreme poverty, hard and unrelenting labor, little hope, early death, and considerable tragedy in between.  But the feeling I took away from my experience was something other than that of despair or abandoned hope.  

    The caretakers in the orphanage, all of whom were basically uneducated, middle-aged Chinese women, taught me by example things that would have been difficult to learn in a classroom. The caretakers washed cloth diapers, bathed, and fed the children in the orphanage as if each were their own child. They gave their entire lives to this unglamorous, menial, but important and essential, work. They taught me that, on most days, you will work until every muscle in your body aches, and it will still not be enough. They also taught me by example, in their quiet and unassuming way, that it takes not only physical endurance but mental strength to commit oneself, day after day, to the task of caring for these orphaned children. I cannot frankly think of anything more challenging, more worthwhile, or more inspiring.

--- Katie, 2007 Summer Intern