The Powerful Difference Sponsorship Makes in the Life of a Child

Editor’s Note: Meridian Magazine sponsors a special humanitarian each year that we all work on together as readers. This year we invite you to sponsor a child of the leprosy-affected, whose chances in life are minimal, unless someone steps forward to be their sponsor. Our goal is to sponsor 300 children whose lives will be forever changed because someone cared. You can learn more about sponsorship by clicking here. 

We are so grateful to see sponsorships coming in to Rising Star Outreach from Meridian readers.  These sponsorships will enable children on our waiting list for the new Rising Star campus in Bihar, to come to the school.  One reader alone, sponsored 21 children—one for each of her grandchildren!  My eyes got misty when I heard that, because I know what the impact of such a generous gift will be.

For these children, many of whom have been on the waiting list to be admitted to our school for several years now, this is providing a long-awaited opportunity that is a cause for celebration.

To share what it means to a child to be admitted to our school, I thought I would share some of their stories.  So, I wrote to Suku, our Director of our school in Bihar,  and asked him to send me some of the stories of children who have recently been brought from our waiting list into the Bihar school.

Why do we even have a waiting list?  Why don’t we bring all the children in who are begging to come?  Well, it’s a matter of space and money.  At the moment we don’t have space for a single extra child, as we are in a rented facility for our school, until the new school is completed.

The dorms at the new campus are scheduled to be completed in November.  At that point, we will make the move to the new campus, even though the school, itself, will still be under construction.  We will hold school in the dorms during the daytime until the new school is completed.

Because construction costs rose so severely during and following the pandemic, we have had to use ALL the funding for the new school just to complete the buildings.  It completely depleted the fund to bring in more children.  Thank heavens for Meridian Magazine and Meridian readers, who have seen the need and are responding!  We are committed to bringing another child off our waiting list—into the school—for every two sponsors we receive from Meridian.

Here are some of the stories of children we were able to admit recently from our waiting list.

In the Sitamadi leprosy colony, a young boy (who I’ll call Santhosh) had a brother and three sisters.  Their father was a mental patient, yet he did his best to work at odd jobs to support his children.  He was not able to earn enough to feed the children properly, and many nights they had to go to bed with empty stomachs. Their “house” was a run-down mud hut.  It had no electricity, toilets, or access to water.  During monsoon rains, the water leaked through the rotting straw roof

Santhosh is finally admitted to Rising Star

One dark monsoon night, as the family sat huddling and shivering together while rain poured through the rotting roof, Santhosh’s father left home.  The children assumed that he had gone to try to find some straw to cover the holes in their roof.  But as the hours dragged by the father did not return.  In the morning the children asked everyone in the colony if they had seen their father, but no one had any knowledge of his whereabouts.  Surely, he would be back soon . .

But Santhosh’s father never returned.  His mother was forced to become a “ragpicker”—one of those desperate souls who comb through the trash piles searching for any scrap they might be able to resell.  Food became even scarcer in the household.

That same year, Rising Star Outreach responded to a request from the Little Flower School in Sunderpur, Bihar, to take over the failing school.  We fixed the decrepit dorms, added doors and windows to the school, brought in lights and fans, textbooks and computers.  Qualified teachers were hired for the first time.  Most impressively, the children living in the dorms were fed nutritious meals three times a day.

Word quickly spread among the 22 colonies nearest to Sunderpur.  Parents from these colonies began making the trek to Sunderpur with their little children in tow.  Everyone, it seemed, wanted to put their children in the school.  But the available spots were quickly filled up.  The space at the school was very limited.  So, a waiting list was started.

Santhosh and his brother and sisters were put on the waiting list.  The chance that five spots would open up seemed pretty remote.  But then, one day when she was feeling at a loss to know how to feed her chidren that night, Santhosh’s mother received word that Santhosh and his sister, “Asha” had been accepted into the Rising Star School.

The family was overcome with joy!  The mother had tears of gratitude streaming down her cheeks.  Not only would her two children eat tonight, they would eat every night.  And it would be easier to feed the other children because there would be fewer to share the few scraps she was able to buy.

At first, both Santhosh and Asha felt intimidated.  The other children knew so much more than them.   They both diligently went to tutoring every day after school and studied well into the night.  The teachers went out of their way to help them.

Santhosh and Asha are now thriving happily.  They pray every night for their siblings to be accepted into the school.  Santhosh’s dream is to become an engineer. Asha’s dream is to become a doctor.  They are both diligent in all their studies.  Here is Santhosh as he was and here he is today, with head held high and purpose in his eyes.   What a difference!

In another colony, Poonam was a widow whose husband had passed away from leprosy complications.  His death left her with the necessity of providing for their three children.  This was especially challenging for her because she was also a leprosy patient.  Her hands and legs were damaged by the disease, which made walking difficult for her.

Even begging had become very difficult for her.  But what choice did she have?  She had three children to feed!  She had two young daughters, “Megala” and “Pavitra”, and a son named “Ravi”  (not their real names). Her secret dream was to find a way to get her children educated.

Poonam heard that there was an international organization called Rising Star Outreach, where children of leprosy patients were provided education, food, medical and dental care, and room and board without cost.  She traveled to Sunderpur to register her children.  Her friends told her not to get her hopes up as the school had a long waiting list, but just the act of registering her children provided Poonam with peace of mind.

She continued dragging herself outside her home begging in all seasons: in the unbearable heat of summer, when temperatures often soared over 100 degrees, throughout the pouring rains and floods of monsoon, and in the bitterness of winter storms.

Then it came, the welcome news that her children had been accepted in the Rising Star school.  All three of them!  As Poonam received the news, she sank down with the conviction, There is a God.

There is definitely a God!  And He has many children who care for His children who need help.  Thank heavens!  Thank God!

(The pictures on the left are Pavitra, and Ravi the day they were admitted to the school.  The pictures on the right are them today.  An incredible difference in just a few months!)

Without admission to the Rising Star School, it’s hard to imagine what would have happened to these precious children. Their futures seemed grim, at best.   But now, instead of whatever that might have been, they are blossoming and flourishing.   What a gift sponsorship is to the life of a child!

Learn how to sponsor a child by clicking here. 

Angels in our Midst

Becky Douglas is the founder of  Rising Star Outreach whose mission is to lift those with leprosy. See their website at risingstaroutreach.org 

Four short video clips, shot over a period of seventeen years tell a haunting story of one woman’s’ courageous struggle against a debilitating disease and of the loving people around her who made her suffering tolerable.

First clip: I first met Saral in 2001 in a destitute leprosy colony. None of the patients in this colony had any access to medical care. They were desperately poor and had multiple medical needs. Saral had a terrible ulcer in her foot.   Without treatment it had festered, with the infection eating deeply into her foot.

Instead of digging out this wound myself– using my handheld video camcorder, I recorded Paul, another volunteer, doing the procedure. Saral had her foot propped up to make it more accessible. She had asked her 13-year old grandson to hold her foot so that she wouldn’t pull her foot away when the treatment became painful, which happened when the person digging out the wound reached proud flesh. This was a very basic setup and we unfortunately were working in the dirt without either anesthesia or sterile facilities.

Saral was very bonded to her grandson, whom she had raised when his mother died. He had lost his mother when he was only 13 days old. His father had already succumbed to leprosy by the time he was born. Saral was the only mother he had known. He was clearly devoted to her. Once the volunteer hit proud flesh the procedure became very painful. Saral grimaced and grit her teeth. She shook her head back and forth in pain as tears ran down her face. With the encouragement of her grandson she was able to endure.

But as the procedure dragged on the volunteer somberly announced that the infection had reached the bone and that the foot would need to come off. The camera captures the agony in Saral’s face as she receives the news. Saral knows that when her foot is amputated she will not be able to go out begging in the nearby community. Without money, not only is her life at risk but she worries about what will happen to her grandson. Tears flowing freely, she collapses against her grandson who tries to console her.

It’s impossible to watch this video clip without tearing up, as Saral’s pain is so visceral, contrasted to her grandson’s love and devotion, which is deeply touching.

The second video clip comes as a surprising happy conclusion to this first miserable scene. In the second clip, Rising Star Outreach has now been working in Saral’s village for a couple of years. Doctors were able to treat the wound instead of amputating the foot. It is healing up and Saral’s joy is boundless. She dances around, bubbling with enthusiasm as she describes to me how successful her “business” has become. Through a loan, we had arranged for Saral to own a milk cow. We brought it in artificially inseminated. The cow produced a male calf, which she promptly named “Becky Douglas”, in appreciation of this opportunity. She was now a woman of importance, owning a cow that produced milk. She tended to the cow like a tender parent. Her devotion paid off! By selling the milk, Saral now had been able to improve her home. Her home now had simple furniture, where before her hut had been completely empty. She had remarkably even managed to buy a TV for her grandson to watch. She proudly announced to us that she had $200 dollars in the bank, which she was saving to educate her grandson. It was a stunning sea change from the first video.

The third clip is about twelve years later. Saral has had a pleasant and meaningful existence. Her grandson, now grown into a handsome young man, has married another girl in the leprosy colony and is the proud father of a baby boy. This video was shot after I had not visited her colony for a period of three years while I served with my husband, who was called to preside over the Santiago, Dominican Republic mission. I was so eager to return to my friends in the leprosy colonies of India after my mission ended. When I reached Saral’s colony I could hardly wait to see her. When she came out of her home and saw me, she burst into tears. Talking a million miles an hour, she reproaches me for not visiting for three years. “How could I abandon them for so long?” she demands to know. I tried to explain about mission calls and how I had been on an island across the world and it wasn’t possible for me to visit. Saral is speaking in Tamil, but her tone is unmistakable. She repeats the word “Ama” over and over again. Ama is the Tamil word for “mother”. She fiercely scolds me telling me, “You are our mother. Mothers cannot abandon their children! For many days we have not known what happened to you and we have missed you dearly. We have prayed with much faith for your return. Don’t you ever leave us like that again!”

 The fourth video clip is heart wrenching. I had been informed by Dr. Susan, our doctor, that Saral was very ill and possibly dying of a stomach infection. Dr. Susan told me that Saral desperately needed to get to a hospital and get on IV antibiotics if she were to have any chance of surviving. Dr. Susan said that her family had refused to let her go. Dr. Susan was hoping I could convince them otherwise. I dreaded seeing my dear friend in a desperate condition again. She was now over 80 years old. I prayed that God would give me the wisdom to know how to convince her family to let her go to the hospital.

Upon arriving at the colony, I immediately rushed to find her home. But someone had run in front of me, loudly announcing to Saral that “Becky is in the colony”. Before I even turned down her street I could hear her calling pitifully, “Ama! Ama!” Her “daughter-in-law”, Jennifer—the lovely girl who had married her grandson, was struggling to carry Saral’s emaciated body out of the hut so she could talk to me. I was shocked at Saral’s appearance. She looked like she had shrunk down to 60 pounds. I ran to hug her. It was like hugging a skeleton. “What on earth has happened to Saral?” I asked Jennifer. Jennifer sadly informed me that Saral could no longer eat. She had been ten days without food! Jennifer had tried feeding her a little rice water with some powder mixed into it but Saral was unable to drink it. Together, Jennifer and I tried to coax some of this drink down Saral’s throat. But after ten days of not eating, Saral’s digestive system had shut down. The pain of trying to get the rice water down her throat was not worth the little nourishment it provided.

I hugged Saral and held her tightly to me as she wept, recounting to me her suffering. I asked Jennifer why she had not allowed them to take Saral to the hospital. Jennifer choked up as she struggled to speak. Unable to talk, she pointed to a lump underneath a blanket in the door of the house.   “What??!!” Lifting up the blanket, I was stunned to see her Jennifer’s father. Also, over 80 years old, he had stumbled and fallen into a fire and been terribly burned. He was now burning up with fever and chills. What was he doing under a heavy blanket in 94-degree weather? The heart was stifling to the rest of us. How could he stay under a heavy blanket? It was a pitiful desperate try to stop his chills. I had some men come help Jennifer to uncover him and bring him out into the open. His face was drawn up in agony. He was clearly dehydrated, in addition to the third degree burns over his arms and legs.

Now it all made perfect sense to me. Sweet, loving Jennifer, who was trying so hard to care for Saral, was also trying to care for her father, who was dying as well. In India in the government hospitals, the family of a patient has to provide their own nursing care, otherwise the patient is ignored, and their needs are not met. How could Jennifer provide this nursing service for Saral when she would have to leave her father behind? She knew that no one would care for him.

Looking at these two, aging people, both of whom needed constant attention, all I could say to Jennifer, is “You are an angel!” What an overwhelming task she was attempting to do! Now as Claudette and I talked with her, Jennifer also broke down crying. She told us how hard she was trying to serve them, how desperately she wanted to help, but how helpless she felt to relieve their suffering. I marveled at her devotion to these two, elderly people. I couldn’t imagine how impossible her task was.

Claudette and I instinctively rushed to hug her. With our arms around her trying to buoy her up, I said to her, “Jennifer, we need to send both Saral and your father to the hospital. They both need IVs and treatment. Can you go and help them?” Not shrinking from an impossible task, Jennifer gladly agreed to go—if Saral and her father could go together. We quickly made arrangements to get both of them on an IV while they awaited transportation to the hospital which apparently couldn’t occur until the next day.

Looking at Saral, I doubted that she would survive, even with Jenifer’s devoted care and with proper medical treatment. She had simply sunk too far down. Realizing that this might be the last time I would see Saral, I hugged her and asked if Claudette and I could say a prayer with her. She was all too eager! The three of us hugged each other and held hands while I prayed, asking God to comfort her and to receive her into His rest. I kissed her goodbye, gave Jennifer one last hug, and then with my heart breaking, slowly walked away.

In spite of the pain, I felt a strange sense of comfort. Part of it came from knowing that Saral’s Heavenly Father would surely warmly and tenderly welcome her into His kingdom, after a lifetime of suffering and hardship. He would be able to finally grant her true healing. She would be leprosy-free at last. I knew that supreme joy awaited her in the next life. I also felt an overwhelming gratitude for Jennifer and her husband (Saral’s grandson), who had so tenderly cared for her through many years of trial and struggle. How grateful I was that God had chosen to send two angels to care for his afflicted daughter throughout her journey in life.

There are many among us who are unsung heroes and angels; many who care seemingly endlessly for Alzheimer patients or emotionally ill family members. There are so many single mothers and fathers who give gentle and unending care to their children, shouldering the burden of being both parents to a child. There are teachers of the physically or emotionally handicapped. There are so many people who unselfishly give of themselves to help alleviate the suffering of others. These are the people that not only inspire us, they ennoble us. Too often their service is not heralded. Often it goes unnoticed by others caught up by the busyness and rush of life. But seen or unseen, acknowledged or unacknowledged, I believe these angels are both seen and acknowledged by God, who accepts and sanctifies their service. To my mind, they also serve as Saviors on Mount Zion, quietly and lovingly doing the work of the Master. How grateful I am for their example and service!