Tag Archives: Children International

Domino Effect

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Family, impediments, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving

May 5, 2026- My granddaughter had a fairly good day, considering that both of her parents had to work at their sites and got home a bit later than usual. Hana is only 4,5 months old, but she puts two and two together pretty well. When she sat and watched me preparing dinner for the family, which has only happened one other time,and no one got home before the meal was ready and put on low heat, she got agitated and wept disconsolately.. Her father got home about ten minutes later and held her for a while. She recovered and was happy again, even more so, once her mother also got back.

It’s hard to know what goes on, in the mind of a pre-verbal child, but body language can give one a fairly strong clue. She enjoys being with me, AND needs her parents. She sleeps through the night, knowing that they are in the room with her, and is most relaxed when one of them is working from home. That will change in June, with both of them having to go back to the office, five days a week. By then, she will have had a bit more time to have it explained to her enough to make an impression. Plus, she and I will be able to take outings in the stroller, with a city park a ten-minute walk. Hana will thrive, given the strength of her bonds with the three of us.

This all brought to mind the thousands of children, from infants to teens, whose family bonds are tenuous, at best. Organizations like Save the Children and Children International have been able to step in and offer educational, recreational and mentoring programs, in various nations across the globe. Another such organization is New Era Children’s Foundation, headquartered in Phoenix, AZ, and with programs locally there, as well as in East Africa and South Asia https://necf.asia/north-america/

Both involvement and neglect have domino effects. People who are abused and neglected in childhood will pay that abuse and neglect forward. Several people who were interviewed in a recent podcast were unequivocal about being perfectly willing to beat, and even kill, children of an ethnic minority in their country. When pressed further, they each said that abuse and neglect had been the dominant features of their own childhood. On the other hand, those who experience a stable upbringing are more likely to treat children well, even taking on the roles of mentor and protector. What comes around, stays around.

In my case, forty-six years of working with children, who were in various degrees of social stability, have left me that much more determined to see a highly intelligent and sensitive child build a solid life for herself. She has grounded, stable parents, so the odds are good.

Nampo Garcia- A Street Kid Story

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October 9, 2024, Manila- (Any connection between the characters in this tale and real people is purely coincidental.)

I felt the blade at my back,as I retrieved the cash from the ATM. “Now, you will give me the due that you refused, back at the Light Rail station!”, snarled a voice at the other end of the knife. “Will I, now?”, I responded, in my best fake Irish brogue. I looked at the wad of bills, then glanced over at the small pair of hands to my right, cupped and ready.

I tossed the folded bills to a chuckling, triumphant street boy. The hapless beggar took off after Nampo, dropping his knife and momentarily forgetting about me. The boy, little more than 3’8” and 50 pounds soaking wet, ran around the floral planter that graced the front of my hostel, all the while holding the cash, in a teasing manner, as the half-addled thief continued to pursue him, like a cat chasing its own tail.

Nampo knew the drill. He ran up to the hostel’s security guard and stood still, until I came up the steps. His meal depended on not running afoul of Steven Morales, who had often graciously provided the boy, and his little sister, with one of the hostel restaurant’s signature burgers or at least one of its ample rice bowls. Tonight, though, as Steven handcuffed the foolish beggar, I took Nampo inside the cafe, and for once, the Chinese owner did not wince and start fussing in Mandarin, about “a mouse being in the house”. Nampo had a full meal and was allowed to take an order to go, for his sister, who was waiting at their makeshift cardboard and plywood hut, off Dominga Street.

“Uncle Rama”, Nampo queried, as we ate, “do you have a friend like me, back in Bengaluru?” “Actually, I have several such friends, Nampo”, I responded. “You see, not so long ago, I too was sleeping under rattan and cardboard, frequently crying myself to sleep and keeping one eye open. The street bandits back in India are not so easy to elude, as the drugged up fiends here in Manila.”

“Not all the thieves here are drugged up”, answered Nampo, “in fact, the only reason I can leave Shakira alone is because we have Auntie Jinja looking after us. Her son, Raul, is also here, visiting his mother and taking her to see a doctor, for her diabetes. Raul said that if he needs to take his mother back to his house in Sucot, we will go with them-and he will make sure we go to school every day.”

I felt relieved at this news and as I walked Nampo back to his encampment, thought of how lucky this resourceful little boy was, to have found Jinja, and by extension, Raul, in the first place. Then again, it was Nampo’s heart energy, taking care of little Shakira, and his pluckiness at cultivating a security guard and a tourist as his friends, that most appealed to my own heart. As it happened, Raul had gone to the hardware, on P. Ocampo, and purchased a few folding chairs. His mother was sitting in one, and he, in another. The dutiful son beckoned me to sit for a while. “Would you care for a cup of iced tea?” “That would be heavenly”, I replied, taking the last empty chair, as Nampo sat down on a bean bag seat, which Raul had also purchased. Shakira was asleep on a small cot, covered with a clean sheet, again provided by the dutiful son.

This night would pass safely for the makeshift family, and soon the four of them would head past the Ninoy Aquino International Airport, through Paranaque to the seaside community of Sucot. I would be heading home to Karnataka, in a few days, and thought that I would make more of an effort to help the urchins in my home city, in honour of Nampo and Shakira.

(The street children of Manila are definitely winsome and engaging. It is their sheer number that prevents meaningful individual assistance, but there are a number of organizations, such as Children International, which I use as a vehicle to help two families, and Save the Children, that can provide assistance to destitute children and their families. Nampo and Shakira are fictional characters, but there are people who fit their description all over the streets of Metro Manila-and other Philippine cities.)

Expanding Home, Day 9: The Second Homage

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October 18, 2023, Daet– Today was the first of two up and out days: I needed to get to the office of Children International, in a city somewhat south of here, by noon at the latest. So, onto the Naga-bound van it was. Thankfully, I only had my small bag, with journal and prayer book, so I took up little space.

The ride to Naga was easy enough. Van drivers tend to drive fast, are able to tail-gate, without seeming obnoxious about it-(Try that in North America, and see what happens.)-and get to their destinations more quickly than the clean, but hamstrung, buses. I was dealing with runny sunblock, and it would be a while before I could flush my left eye out properly. I made do with closing my eyes and got a cup of coffee, once at Bicol Central Station, in Naga. Right after that, a man came up to me and said I was to follow him to the bus that was headed to the town where CI is located. I don’t know how he knew I was headed there, but no matter-I followed and boarded the correct bus. It took 3 1/2 hours, and I was in communication with CI reps, the entire time. (They did not know I was on the bus, so the theory that I may have been under their surveillance does not jibe.)

At any rate, I met the Children International representative at the bus station, was taken to their offices and met several of the staff, before meeting up with my sponsored youth and his mother. We then went to a Biggs Diner (a Filipino chain), in the city’s gleaming, modern shopping mall, and enjoyed a fine lunch. Then, we went to a department store, and he picked out his gift from me-a colourful pair of basketball shoes. This fulfills a long-time dream of his, as he loves basketball and is in a youth league.

The group of us then got back in the van, and drove to Cagsawa Historical Site. Here, there are the ruins of a church that was destroyed by lava, from Mount Mayon, in 1872. It seems the 1870s and ’80s were an especially active period for Pacific Rim volcanic activity: Krakatao’s seismic eruption took place in 1883.

Mount Mayon, eastern Bicol
The bell tower of Cagsawa’s church. It is the sole structure left standing, from the 1872 lava flow.

After this, I bid farewell to my sponsored youth and to the CI staff. The long bus ride back to Naga went past Mount Asog, nearly an hour due north of Mount Mayon. It, too, was an active volcano in the 19th Century.

Mount Asog (Mount Iriga), Camarines Sur Province

We kept on riding, into the late afternoon, and past the departure of the last bus to Daet. As I would have been the sole passenger, it was just as well. I found a taxi driver who was willing to make the trip-for a reasonable out-and-back fare. By 9:30, I was safely back in Daet and walked the 1 km distance from the Catholic hospital to Mirasol Residences, mostly to stretch, after being seated for 7 1/2 hours.

‘To whom much is given, much is expected’. I will rest well tonight.