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“Hola, Oscaaar,” Michael’s enthusiasm manages to bring the briefest smile from Oscar our newest finca kid. I’m stuck in that moment between tears and laughter.

I wept because on Wednesday when he arrived at the finca at 14 months old he could cry no tears of his own because of his dehydration. Wracked by diarrhea and vomiting, malnourished, dehydrated, and despondent by Thursday we had to admit him to the hospital in Trujillo. Holding him yesterday in the hospital with Erika and Michael I could not stop thinking about Michael at his age.

And then Oscar smiled, he tucked his head in my neck and snuggled. Michael’s voice rang again as he shook Oscar’s hand or played peek a boo with a washcloth. And so I smiled.

In writing this I don’t know what more to say. I want to share with you the horror of holding a neglected, malnourished, dehydrated little boy who wants nothing more than to be loved and cared for. When he arrived he could not cry and did not respond to either pain or comfort, but now he has begun his journey to be made whole again. We pulled out all the big guns, antibiotics, IV re-hydration, food and most of all the love of Christ manifested in the love of his house parents, the other finca kids, volunteers and nuns. This is the hope that I want to share with you. Oscar’s road will be long and difficult because the legacy of neglect and malnutrition is deep and long-lasting. But it remains a road filled with laughter and joy and many days of Michael giggling, “Oscaaaar,” as we pour out every ounce of our being to love him.

And so in writing this I leave you as I began, stuck in that moment between tears and laughter.

In love,

Michael-John