Reality Check

The reality of my experiences, here in Bulgaria, are finally setting in. My mind is plagued with thoughts and sentiments as I process through the veracity of how these children live. Why? Why would God let these children live in such conditions? And why did God feel the need to show me? The unfairness of this world is weighing heavily on my heart. From the too good to be true Varna orphanage to the hopelessness for the children of Dobrich to the joy and happiness at Kaspchican I have been able to harness my emotions. Today, however, after walking the dark and dreary hallways of the Shumen baby home my feelings could not be controlled.

As we toured the dilapidated building that smelled of must and lead paint I could not help to notice the lack of color and music. Sadness exuberated from every crevice. How these children yearned for the human touch…I wondered how often they actually received it. As my team followed the nurse, she stopped at each room giving a small explanation of the children; I soon realized that that every child on that wing had a moderate to severe special need. The third window we stopped at left a haunting impression on me. This room contained three small children; one was lying motionless in the corner of the toyless room. Another small boy stood across the room screaming with no regard from staff. But the third child caught my eye then stared at me behind her chilling, emotionless eyes for just a few moments before she began to repeatedly bang her head against the metal slats that protected the glass door to their room. This continued for what seemed like hours as a sense of helplessness washed over me like a giant wave from the Black Sea. Her beautiful, precious face contained bruises from her countless episodes of self-injurious behavior. Her age could not any have been older than three years, but her soul was old and weary. I suspect that she has already spent the majority of her life in the cold, blank world of Shumen orphanage. My eyes began to tear as I attempted to hold back the overwhelming grief i felt for these children.

As I sit and write tonight, I try to sort through my impressions of each orphanage I have visited. I have witnessed hope, despondency, happiness, and bleakness. I pray to God to reveal why I am here and why He has sent me to witness the despair, of the Bulgarian orphans.