Hope Haven Distributions (May 27 and 28)

I have been helping at the Hope Haven distributions, and am learning so much and enjoying myself in so many ways. 


Gustavo, our resident "wheelchair artist"

I love working with the Hope   Haven staff—they care so much about each client receiving the best wheelchair possible.  Does that always happen?  Probably not.  But I can honestly say that they do their best to make sure they are seated comfortably, safely, and in a manner that will improve not only their posture but their health.  Before moving down here, I didn’t understand all the reasons chairs were important.  I used to think  they were for mobility.  And that’s true.  But they also improve the quality of life and increase the length of a person’s life.  When not properly seated, internal organs begin to shut down.  Without the correct fit, pressure sores develop which in this country can be life-threatening.  Just “any” wheelchair really won’t do.  Sometimes “something” really is worse than nothing if it causes more damage to an already fragile person.  That’s why I’m so grateful to be working with a group of people who takes this responsibility of seating people so seriously.




Ilse, Hope Haven's staff physical therapist showing
a mom how to correctly position her child.

  I also have seen infirmities that I have not encountered to this extent in the US since I began working in special ed. in the early ‘70’s.  The little ones with hydrocephalus always seem to hit me hard.  One of the first things we look for our own children to do is lift their heads.  These little ones can’t even support their head to sit, and often cannot even move it from side to side.



The fact that these children come in with such enlarged heads is a constant reminder to me that I now live in a “majority world” country.  (These countries used to be called the “Third World” but in missions the term is changing to reflect the fact that most of the world’s population continues to live in poverty.)  In the US, hydrocephalus is usually diagnosed shortly after birth, shunts inserted, and brain damage avoided or minimized.  Here it is very different.  A number of the children I have seen here with this condition have never seen a doctor.  It’s hard not to have your heart break at this injustice. 

The age of the child doesn’t matter.  They are still your child. This young man, Randy, is about the same age as my oldest son, Jeremy.
The only difference is, his mom has been carrying him in a sling on her back for the last 31 years.

Yet these are beautiful little ones, whose mommas love and take great joy in their children.  Often, these little ones are amazingly alert and intelligent.  Always, the parents rejoice at the fact that we love their children and see their beauty.  In this country, children who are different are not always appreciated.  The parents are always so appreciative when we want to talk to, touch, and play with their children.  And as I look at these little ones, I can’t help but hear Jesus say, “Let the little children come unto Me.”  So, the best I can do is bring them to Him and bless them as He would, and trust Him to care for their tender young hearts.

Sebastian, age 10, and his dad.  Dad has done much research on wheelchairs, had many good suggestions to fit his son properly, and did a good bit of the work on the chair himself. 
I love meeting these parents!