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Michael Hess of Volunteer Nepal found the orphanage in March 2005. This is the story of his discovery.
One fateful day many months ago I walked over the crest of a hill that I had found myself gazing upon nightly from my balcony. The crest was only a mile away, a 20-minute uphill walk. With each step I was leaving the hustle and noise of Kathmandu farther behind and entering a world of relaxed harmony, a quiet and serene landscape of individual small homes with gardens, and more chickens and goats than pedestrians, on the rocky dirt road snaking towards the top. There was a powerful
energy of goodwill emanating from the smiles of every person I would pass.
A friend of mine had found an orphanage another mile distant that she said needed some help, and she was anxious to take me there.
As we hiked I felt a tremendous sense of clarity, an awareness that I was in a moment of divine intervention; an unaccountable, quiet excitement started coursing through me that suggested something pretty remarkable was taking place in my life.
When we reached a miserable, abandoned-looking little house I couldn’t imagine anyone living there. “This is it,” my friend offered, and I was sure she was joking. It was still—not a sign of life in the midday heat—and so small. “Namaste!” my friend called out, and in moments we were engulfed by the kind and cheerful residents, some eager, some shy, as they poured out of the house led by “puppy,” the small house mascot and protector.
The spirit that came like a cloud around us was thick with love.
It seemed like a reunion had taken place when several hours later I waved goodbye. I felt that all of my life's work was in preparing me for this moment, and I am ready.
