Zip linning is always a favorite for OSSO volunteers.
They call me Mommy
If “home is where the heart is”, Ecuador became my second home nearly 7 years ago. I planned a 3 month trip when I was 20, and naively thought I was going to change the world. I had no idea what was in store for me. I had no idea I would fill my passport with stamps to Ecuador. I had no idea the life that would change the most was my own.
Fast forward a few years, and I found myself visiting an orphanage in Ecuador. We were outside on a sunny afternoon playing in the yard with the children. By this time, I had lived a couple of years in Ecuador doing volunteer work in orphanages. I had become accustomed to the nature of orphanages, and most things didn’t surprise me. However, that afternoon I’ll never forget. A little boy was asked to pray, and I listened to his genuine plea, “God, give us a mamá and papá” then 35 children chimed in unison “amen”.
As humans we long to belong, and the essence of belonging is felt in family. Each child at the orphanage is uniquely different, just like siblings in a family. However, something I repeatedly saw in common was their innate desire for a mother.
From the seemingly menial moments to the unforgettable joyous occasions, I will forever be grateful to the children who trustingly let me into their life. Some audibly called me “mommy” and others simply gave me the blessing to fill that role in one small way or another.
I think of the 2 ½ year old toddler in the nursery, who was the first child to call me and many volunteers “mommy”.
I think of attending a meeting with my group of volunteers and a diaper company. The diaper company had agreed to give free diapers to the orphanage, in exchange to research the quality of diapers. They opened the meeting, “You are the parents of the children in the orphanage. Tell us your input how to improve the diapers.”
I think of my overwhelming inadequacy as I was assigned to care for an orphan at the children’s hospital in Quito. The nurse announced for all mothers to bring their babies to the other room to be weighed. I remember standing in line with all the other mothers as I held him in my arms.
I remember leaving the casa at the orphanage after a particularly draining afternoon. I had spent the afternoon with a little boy throwing tantrums and trying to explain “we don’t hit our friends”. Emotionally exhausted, I opened the door to leave as I heard, “Espera mami! Un beso?” “Wait Mommy! A kiss?” as he ran to the door and planted a kiss on my cheek.
I think of sneaking into an ICU room in the hospital. I remember the nurse immediately telling me visitors were prohibited, and only family could enter the room. I still remember the look of apologetic humiliation from the nurse when I replied, “This little girl has no family. I work for her orphanage.” She kindly gave me a few minutes alone with her.
I think of attending the school play for 3 of the children at the orphanage, and hearing them announce “Will all mothers please come behind the curtains to help their children prepare?” I remember crying during that rendition of ‘Beauty and the Beast’. My heart couldn’t have been prouder that night.
I think of handing a baby girl to the nurse and watching her scream and reach for me as the operation doors slowly closed. I remember lying in the hospital bed with her, because she wanted no one else.
I think of staying up late Christmas Eve with other volunteers to make sure the stockings were filled by Papa Noel. Although simple, the children were greeted with a bit of magic Christmas morning.
I’ve now returned to the United States and began to work for the same organization in their U.S. office. My days are now filled with office details, rather than beautiful children. One day I went to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription for a few children at the orphanage. The situation had already been explained to the pharmacist, so I was legally covered. However there were only 2 options to choose from when I was asked to check a box:
I am the patient receiving the prescription
I am the parent of the patient.
As I checked the box, I had the familiar feeling “I would be honored to be called their mother”.
My experiences are not my own. I couldn’t have these experiences without the loving trust of each precious child who let me into their life. I’m not the first to have these experiences; a decade of volunteers paved the way before me. And I pray for a century of future volunteers to choose this experience. I won’t promise it’s easy, but I can promise whether symbolically or audibly they will call you mommy.
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Everyone smiles in the same language
Volunteers in Quito have live on the orphanage grounds with over 80 children. Across the street in the same community is a home for the elderly. A nun who worked for years with OSSO volunteers in the nursery was later assigned as Mother Superior to watch over the home for the elderly. She once explained to an OSSO volunteer, that the people living in the home were very similar to the orphans across the street. They had very little material possessions, and many had no family to visit or care for them. She emphasized their need for love and attention. While OSSO volunteers, spend the majority of time in the orphanage, they occasionally get to visit the “ancianos”, a term in Spanish used for elderly people.
Read on for more about Shaylee’s experience serving the ancianos.
“I was so grateful we had the opportunity to spend some time at Ancianos while I served in Quito. It added great variety to our schedule and who doesn’t love spending time with the cute elderly? It would always brighten my day to go color, dance, paint nails, and just be around them. Of course it was hard because I don’t speak a lot of Spanish so I couldn’t understand what they were saying when they would try to talk to me. I always wished I could’ve had a conversation with them but because of the language barrier I started to pay attention to their facial expressions a lot.
Soon I realized that I didn’t need to speak Spanish because everyone smiles in the same language and by seeing the huge grins on their faces, I could tell that they appreciated me being there spending time with them. They didn’t even have to say anything to me and I could feel their love. It was very inspiring for me to serve such wise, humble, people who have close to nothing. I developed a strong love for them and want them to always be happy and well. A smile can go a long way so I can only hope that the love, happiness, and smiles they receive from us can stay in their hearts forever<3″
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Your feet will take you to where your heart is
Megan left her heart in Ecuador when she was 18, and returned two more times to the country and children who captured her heart. Read on for more about her life-changing experiences.
“On a whim, as an 18-year-old, I went down to Cuenca to volunteer. I could never have guessed how much that decision would change my life. While there I became the Cunas’ leader (when you volunteer you are generally assigned to oversee one of the orphanage sites). Spending everyday in the cunas, surrounded by innocent, beautiful infants taught me so many valuable lessons. After coming home from Cuenca I thought about “my babies” every day and talked about them to anyone with ears.
Two years later I found myself going back to Cuenca. This time around I was the Casas’ leader–this meant I was with the same children as before, just they were now toddlers instead of infants. Being with those same children and seeing the incredible progress they had made helped me to appreciate the volunteers and orphanage workers SO much. I mean, how could the kids have learned what they had without the makeshift family that surrounded them everyday? Because they showed me love, I knew they had known love. Because they laughed, I knew they had felt happiness. Because they helped one another, I knew they had seen kindness.
I left Cuenca thinking I would never go back. I remember looking out the window of the airplane at the streets below, following the highway with my eyes to where the orphanages stand. My heart wanted to burst with the true sorrow I felt for leaving that beautiful city and all that it meant to me. I hoped and prayed that others would find their way to OSSO so that my kids would continue to be watched over.
Luckily for me my OSSO story didn’t end there. Five years later I happened to be walking through a career fair during my last semester of college while an OSSO presentation was going on. I stopped to chat with the representative and found out that OSSO was looking for an Assistant to the Project Directors in Cuenca. (!!!) I immediately interviewed for the position and six months later landed back in my beloved Cuenca.
Going back to OSSO, in this position, gave me a different perspective of the program and its magnitude for good. I was able to see first-hand what was donated to the children in need. I was able to meet and greet every volunteer that came through the program and see how the volunteers’ lives were changed through service. I was also able to see the impact each volunteer had on the children’s lives. I was able to see the hours and hours of hard work put in by the OSSO staff. I was able to see sacrifices and miracles.
Most of my days, as an Assistant, involved working with kids, helping the volunteers, running errands, and interacting with the staff of the orphanages. Basically, I ran around a lot. But in retrospect I realized that even though I was constantly busy, even though I was tired, I was never unhappy with where I was. Never. That’s because going back to Ecuador was going back to where my heart was.“
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WHERE MY FEET WENT TODAY
Catch a glimpse of a volunteer’s day in Cuenca, Ecuador.
To the volunteers returning home
Today’s guest blogger is Katie- who currently serves as Assistant to the Directors of the orphanage program in Cuenca, Ecuador.
Title image found at yourfutureyourworld.wordpress.com
Home. The word often fills me with joy, longing, and yes, even dread. I think of home as I take volunteer after volunteer to the airport. I am envious they will be able to see their families, drink from the tap, and heck, flush the toilet paper down the loo. But at the same time, I dread the day when I will be getting on a plane once again and heading back to the United States, because although I am going back to all those blessings, in my heart I am also leaving home.
As many of you, I have experienced the dreaded and long-awaited trip home. I’ve sat in a foreign airport and bawled my eyes out waiting for a flight. I’ve lay in my bed at night, thinking and crying for my kids. My kids who live and ocean away, and speak a language I am still trying to master.
Every day in Ecuador is a blessing. I try to hold every second, capture the moments in my hands, play back the days against my eyelids at night. I remember all the hugs, all the times little feet ran to me so little arms could wrap around my legs. Every smile warms my heart, while every cry softens it even more. In the mornings I lay in my bed, wool blankets piled over me, listening to the children next door and smile. Even so, life in Ecuador is by no means easy. There are days when I flop into my bed exhausted. There are nights when I cry with frustration at my own weaknesses or plead to my Father to release a child from sickness or pain.
Like many of you I came to Ecuador to change lives, never imagining nor envisioning how much I would be changed. Perhaps that is why it is so hard for us to return home. We are changed. We come home different people. We learn to love in a way we couldn’t imagine possible. We can’t imagine leaving that love, that charity we feel, behind. But we don’t have to.
Returning home is not the end of service, it is the beginning of a new service. OSSO volunteers don’t just change the lives of children in Ecuador, they have the power to change the lives of all they come in contact with, especially after they are home. Sometimes, those who are currently in our lives are the ones who need our outstretching of love the most. And suddenly we are more capable to give that love.
So reach out! Share your love! Share your experiences, the compassion you have gained and the wisdom you have earned. And yes, while you may still yearn to return to Ecuador, you will find that the sharp pain of longing will turn gentler. The pangs of homesickness will never fade, but become easier to bear because you will know while you are separated physically, the spiritual connection with your children will never fade.
After all, they have your heart.
Oh I would if I could...
Meet Kathy. A wife, a mother, a grandmother, a Registered Nurse, and an orphanage volunteer.
While many say
“I can’t because I have a career.“
“I can’t, I’m a grandma”
“I can’t miss my family for the holidays.”
We all have experiences when we say, “Oh, I would if I could…..”.
Kathy pushed past those obstacles and served for 3 months in orphanages in Cuenca, Ecuador. She is now looking forward to her second trip and cannot wait to see “her kids” again.
Read on for more about Kathy’s experience…
“The only way to truly describe my experience in Cuenca is to say that it ranks right at the top of the list with marrying my high school sweetheart, welcoming each of my three children into this world and witnessing the births of each of my six grandchildren.
It is a life-changing adventure!
The children in the different orphanages where I served were to say the least, amazing. There is nothing like walking through the door and having five, ten or twenty faces smiling at you and dozens of little feet running to greet you. These children are no different than any other child I have had the privilege to be around….they just don’t happen to live in a typical family. The blessing of the opportunity to spend time with them is, we become like family.
My most fond memories of my three months in Ecuador are the holidays. Though many of the traditions vary from what I have been used to in the United States, everyone loves to celebrate a special occasion. We dressed the kids in costumes and took them trick-or-treating from casa to casa on Halloween. Thanksgiving (which is a foreign holiday to anyone outside of the United States) was celebrated by making Indian headbands with feathers for everyone to wear and introducing the kids to pumpkin pie. Christmas time was probably the most special. Each day of December was spent making a Christmas craft or decoration with the kids and singing Felice Navidad, even if we couldn’t hold a tune! On Christmas Eve we surprised the kids by going Christmas caroling. We started in one casa and gathered the children to join us to the next casa, and the next, gathering children along the way. While we walked I carried one little guy on my shoulders and we sang and sang one carol after another, such sweet memories. When the caroling was over and all of our kids were tucked into bed we filled their stockings for Christmas morning. Thankfully there were many giving hearts who willingly donated small gifts and money so the children could celebrate a visit from Papa Noel. Though the children only received a few small things in their stockings Christmas morning was magical! The happy faces of those kids will forever remain a fond memory in my heart.
Over the past two years since volunteering with OSSO I find myself reminiscing almost daily about the experiences I had. I made many wonderful friends with the other volunteers. Many of whom I have stayed in contact with, even though every one of them could have been my own children OR grandchildren. We had opportunities to go to town and shop at the “Hidden Door” or “Hippie Market” (so named by previous volunteers), go sight-seeing, eat ice cream at Tutti Fredos and enjoy the culture of Ecuador. I learned so many new things about myself and others, an education of a lifetime in three short months.
I recently decided that it is time for me to go back. Though I have responsibilities with work, church and my family, all have been willing to allow me the reprieve to go serve “my kids” again. Yes, life can get in the way, but the lives of these children who don’t have the blessing of family have become so dear to my heart. A few weeks and an experience of a lifetime to make forever memories, is so very worth it!”
If a child cries in the night and no one comes, how long will he cry?
The volunteers invited me to go as if they were handing me a free ticket to go to an all-you-can-eat steak house. I had been busy all day meeting with potential donors and orphanage leaders and hadn’t spent much time with the kids today, so I was glad to go.
As I walked into the nursery I remembered the first time I walked into an orphanage nursery: a large room with rows of cribs. Each crib had an infant; many of the babies were awake, and yet the room was as quiet as an empty church. It was an eerie feeling. At the time I thought they must be very happy, satisfied babies, but I was wrong.
When children are born, they have one way to communicate. They cry. If they’re cold they cry; if they’re hungry they cry: wet, bored, scared, in pain, they cry. Most babies quickly learn that when they cry, someone comes to try to figure out why and to fix it. Crying is their way of reaching out to the universe to say, “Is anyone there? Does anyone care? Am I important?” This early interaction–of baby crying then parent/guardian responding–is fundamental. During the beginning of a baby’s life, the centers of the brain that allow children to trust, bond, and love are developing.
In an orphanage infants are the easiest kids to ignore. Ignore the 2-year-olds, and they will seriously hurt or kill themselves. Ignore the 9-year-olds, and they will burn the place down. Ignore the teenagers, and soon you will have more infants.
But ignore the infants, and they just cry and not all that long. The most efficient way of caring for a large number of babies is to ignore their crying and just do everything on a fixed schedule. It sounds cruel, but would you want to keep 25 babies alive or keep 10 from crying? Soon the babies learn it does no good to reach out to the universe and cry. No one will come. As a result, critical social parts of the brain just don’t develop.
When an orphanage finally gets more help, like when OSSO volunteers start helping, there is a difficult transition. The orphanage staff at first thinks the volunteers are making things worse. The “good,” quiet babies start to cry because maybe, just maybe, if there are enough volunteers and they cry, someone will come.
So, tonight, as we were changing diapers, I was very happy to hear some of the babies cry, but I was even happier to see that they didn’t cry long before they were picked up and loved.
-This story was shared by Rex Head, founder of OSSO.
Bus ride in Thailand.
Learn more about a past volunteer's experience HERE!