Our Children

Yeshorda, Ragina, Lila, and Susila

The girls arriving at our home

Early last spring these four sisters joined our family. We knew that they would be coming for about six weeks before it was possible for them to make the journey from their mountain top home in Sindhupalchwook. This first photo was taken about an hour after they arrived, dressed in remnants of a school uniform from a school long closed by the Maoist. They brought nothing else with them except for the gift of love. With all their hearts they are sincere and eager to please. In school this past grading term all four were ranked number one in their respective classes, all receiving in the 90% range for the semester—all, that is, except Yeshodha, who had a perfect 100%.

The girls last spring when I took them home for a visit

Last spring the girls returned home during a school holiday, and I went to bring them back when it was over. After a difficult ride the road stops and the hike begins. They live in a sparsely populated area high up in the mountains where the Maoist control the lives of the people. Rough paintings of a pineapple over the Maoist insignia adorn the front of the impoverished houses in the same way a driver places a police benevolent fund sticker on his bumper. The Maoist are not welcome but they don't bother to ask anyway. Their school was closed more than open, teachers were hard to find and harder to keep, and the families live on the edge of chaos 24 hours a day.

Their mother is a quiet and strong woman with a quick smile and proud observing eyes. They have a little brother Amrit who made leaving difficult, as tears ran down his convulsed face watching his sisters leave. The girls have grown a great deal in their time with us, as witnessed in these pictures taken last week when the school celebrated Saraswoti, the Goddess of education, in a Puja at the school.

Ragina Khadka. She will be 9 on March 22.	Yeshodha Khadka. She will be 8 on November 27.
Susila Khadka. She will be 13 on June 28.	Lila Khadka. She will be 12 on December 30.

Yeshordha, Ragina, Lila, and Susila are very bright girls, determined, resilient, and very well mannered. They are well liked by the others in the home and school, and as sisters have an amazing closeness. These are the rare type of individuals that colleges clamor for, and when they come as a package I think many good schools will be quick to offer them a place when that time comes. It would be great to get them in a good prep school in America or elsewhere when they are of age.

It is inconceivable that these four girls could have been left to wither on that mountain; they were born blessed with sharp minds and loving spirits and we want to make sure they receive every possible support and encouragement through their academic careers.

Chham Bahadur Gurung

Chaam in summer 2005	Chaam in winter 2007

I want to profile all of our children for you. I will add one child per week. Selecting the first required no thought at all.

This is Chham Bahadur Gurung.

The picture of Chham in the summer of 2005 pretty much sums up Chham. He is the champion and friend to all small children. He is also loved and respected by all his peers, elders, and teachers. About many children it is often heard what a great child, but in Chham's case, he exemplifies goodness. There is something about his soul that is kind, caring, and considerate in a depth not often seen in humans.

This summer, July 16th, Chham will be 13. He has been with me from the beginning. He speaks softly and moves gently, except for in his karate class. There he has already perfected an admirable form and powerful kicks. He works hard in school, sits alone in an empty classroom after school and studies until dinner time. After dinner he will prepare for bed and then study in bed until I come to say goodnight. When I wake the kids in the morning I think he hears my footsteps coming as he sits up quickly when I open the door and with a big smile says, "Good morning, Papa!" After study hall, when he hears me closing windows in the study rooms, he will rise from his studies and go to rooms before me to close the windows and turn out the lights, and then return to his solitary concentration.

If we go on a picnic, Chham will be the only one going around picking up any paper or wrappers that may have been scattered. If another child is hurt or sad, it will be Chham who notices and comforts the child with patience and affection. Chham is a quiet observer, the guy who just gets things done, keeps things smooth, without any fanfare. I have come to realize that Chham is a hero in the way he conducts his life each and every day, never once complaining about a single thing, ever.