This morning I worked with a ministry called "Caring Mothers." There aren't too many men who take part of this ministry, but I'd rather be called a "Caring Father". I went, for the first time, to a hospital wing where they take care of sick children who've been abandoned. Before I left for Ukraine, I shared at church about a one year old boy named Anton who had been abandoned. I worked with the lady who wrote that story. Apparently he wasn't from this place though. The Mother's Care team goes to four different hospitals during the week, trying to visit each one at least once.
The ladies spend time with each child, holding them and rocking them. Often playing with their arms and legs, fingers and toes. These children are too young to really speak, at least the ones I met. The ministry they require is physical love and nurturing words.
There were nine babies here, most of them had Down Syndrome. I spent a good amount of time with a baby named Tanya (for obvious reasons), and also a little 2 year old boy named Alexander (but they called him Sasha).
Sasha woke up while I was there. He wasn't very responsive, but he had this crooked little smile on his crinkled face. I cuddled with Sasha in a chair there for a long time, sang some worship songs, and told the Caring Mothers that we needed some quality time. Rebecca explained to me that we're pretty much the only quality time Sasha has. He's severely handicapped, and the nurses don't even spend time with him. Because of his condition, he has virtually no chance of getting adopted.
You remember how when you were a child, and you got sick, how your parents made a fuss over you? I've never had to go to the hospital but I imagine if I were, as a child, my parents would've been there all the time. These kids have no one, but a few missionary ladies who check on them when they can. I can't cuddle and lay hands and pray for these kids enough.
So maybe Sasha normally doesn't get his "recommended daily allowance" of old fashioned TLC, but he got a good dose today.