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Abishek’s face keeps popping into my mind numerous times a day. While putting dishes in the dishwasher, filing at the office, folding laundry or when I am awake in the middle of the night – his sweet face appears like a photo disrupting my thoughts at that moment. The last time I saw Abishek his face was full of innocence and gentleness, his skin creamy and clear.

When I first saw the children at the LOT Home in Relli during my recent visit, they were in a group, it was night and there was no electricity. Later we were in the large room where the children gather to study, for worship or to simply hang out, and again, there was faint candlelight so I did not scrutinize the children. It was the following morning after breakfast when the children were milling about in their school uniforms waiting to walk to class, that I first noticed Abishek. I was stunned. There was a fierce scar from just beneath his nose halfway across his face towards his ear. It was obvious he had suffered from a substantial, harrowing accident!

Voices were shouting in my brain.’ What happened to this boy? This is not acceptable! Something has to be done!’ A few months previous, when our little chapel was under construction, Abishek was curious about the project. He investigated the work, slipped and cut his face – a deep, serious cut. Jonathan took him to Kalimpong, the nearest town, but the doctor said he could not fix such a ghastly wound. He told them to go to Siliguri, another 40 miles over winding, rutted roads teeming with traffic. So it was in Siliguri that Abishek’s wound was stitched.

How will that scar affect his life? Will it undermine his confidence and self-esteem? When he is ready to get a job or find a wife, will his disfigured face limit his options? If my own child had such a visible scar would I not do everything I could to remedy it, to make it as inconspicuous as possible? I have a dilemma. Neither I, nor the ministry has the money for a good plastic surgeon to repair Abishek’s face. Some people that I have mentioned this too think I’m making a mountain out of a molehill. Parents are responsible for their children but Abishek doesn’t have parents. He is God’s child in our care – TWAM’s responsibility. So am I going to do less for God’s orphaned child then I would for my own? I have no choice but to turn this problem over to God, but quite truthfully, I have an ache deep in my heart for this little boy. This is my prayer: “As for me (Abishek), I am poor and needy, but the Lord takes thought for me. You are my help and my deliverer; do not delay, O my God!” Psalms 40:17[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]