Precious Laughter

The highlight of the week was a birthday party (with Brazillian BBQ) they had for Robson and Caique (pronounced Kaheekee). As the preparations for the party were going on, Quezia and I took a quick break in the dining area on the second floor. We stood at the window looking over the playground where a few kids remained. The ones there at the time were those too sick to go to school.
Mateos is one of them. He was kept in the hospital for a very long time while his mother battled and succumbed to AIDS (by law children cannot be placed in a home or adopted untill the parent has passed away). The overwhelmed hospitals have no staff to spend time with children there with their parents. He was kept alive, but not spoken to, held or taught at all. He cannot walk or speak normally. The YWAM staff here told me that he's doing immensely better here at Casa Refugio than when he arrived from the hospital--gaining weight, understanding language, crawling and attempting to walk. He laughed as he tossed away a balloon for Quezia to catch--just like my son did when he was around a year old. Mateos is nearly four. Laughter is precious from all children-- but especially children like these.
"Are you ok?" Quezia asked me as I looked out from the window.
"Yeah, it just hits you sometimes... they are going to die too soon." I held onto the window frame.
"I know."
A gate slammed and in rushed the children from school. One boy raced down the driveway into the playground on his big-wheel tricycle. He turned sharply--just missing the chairs.
As I decended the stairs into the playground Robson ran in from school.
"Oi!" he greeted me and then asked Webio, the director of Casa Refugio, if he could help with the preparations for the party (his party).
The party began with the Brazillian music playing, the children were dancing and enjoying the BBQ, sodas and cake. They also prayed for special birthday blessings for Robson and Caique. The staff here make each of the children's birthdays a wonderful celebration. It is important because it refutes the world's attitude that these children are worthless.
Near the end of the evening Quezia and I went over to wish Robson a happy birthday before we had to leave.
"Happy birthday! I wanted to give you this--it's a shell necklace I got in Hawaii," Quezia said.
"No! I can't take it." Robson smiled and politely refused.
"But I want you to have this. Come here." Quezia kneeled and placed it around his neck.
"Oh, thank you Tia (auntie)! Thank you very much!"
He hugged Quezia tightly and me as well.
Perhaps he was just trying to be polite by not accepting the gift at first. But many of these children struggle with feelings of rejection, fear and other emotions that make it hard to receive love or hope.
The director had told Quezia and I about how he had to warn one of the past volunteers not to give false hope to one of the children. The child had taken the volunteer's loving care to mean that they would be adopted.
We took this to heart and were impartially showing love to all the kids. Still, I don't know how I will be able to say good-bye to any of them.
As we began to head home, I noticed Robson showing his necklace to Flavia, one of the YWAM staff at Casa Refugio.
Had we been too partial? Or was it an appropriate gift well received? My doubts lingered... till I heard his precious laugh.

[ Please continue to pray for us as we are here another week before going on to three other cities in Brazil. Thanks! -Jeff