Orphan stories

We had a little get-together last night at a friend's house. Two of the "kids" from the children's home came; this is the second year we've invited these two particular kids to enjoy a family dinner and give them small gifts for Christmas. B. is struggling quite a bit right now as she tries to "make life work"; she has a job as a hairdresser, has "sort of" moved out of the children's home an in with her boyfriend, but life is a battle as customers are few, bills have to be paid, and building a relationship with someone when you have few if any models in your life of what that actually looks like, only adds to the stresses already present. B. left early, a troubled spirit accompanying her out the door.
L. stayed, and as dad and the kids went upstairs for bath time, my friend K. and I talked to L. about his recent decision not to finish the computer school he is in and instead, study for university entrance exams and apply to the Math department at the University. As we shared with him just how difficult "real life" is, and that he is going to have to work REALLY hard, while at the same time reminding him of how much we love him, his eyes began to well up with tears. L. has no family to speak of. He's 20, and unlike other kids in the home, when he turned 18, he did not get the "large sum of money" most of the other kids get to help them get on their feet and buy a small one or two room flat. He's quite motivated, but obviously scared as well. When I asked him how we could help and encourage him, he broke down sobbing. Through his tears, he said that on days when he feels down or depressed, he just thinks of us and the few others that he knows love him and are "for" him. "When I wanted to quit high school, I just thought about how much that would disappoint you two, and so I stuck with it," he continued, sobbing, shoulders shaking as emotion overcame him. With three of us now bawling, I was struck, once again, by how much of an impact each of us can have on someone's life, sometimes without even realizing it. Yet heartbreak hit again when, on the bus ride home, I asked L. where he will spend Christmas. "In my room, playing my guitar."
I know there are millions around the world, alone and many will spend Christmas alone, just like L. Please remember to pray for them!

ceo for the kids