In this, what is very likely the last update for Nepal Orphans Home, it seems fitting to pay tribute to our very own Field of Dreams, our Giving Tree. When we first leased the building that became Papa’s House, it was with the caveat that the large property in front of it, a neighborhood dump at the time, be available for a long-term lease as well. The owner of the house contacted the property owner and together they met with us and agreed. The property owner was then, in 2005, a retired gentleman, but he promised me that as long as he lived, the property would be ours to lease, and upon that we shook hands.

The photo above was taken about two weeks after we hired a group of people to clean the grounds. They started by filling large trailers pulled by two stroke tractors with surface debris; at least 60 trips were made to the municipal landfill. And then they began digging out buried debris and leveling the field. All of this work was done by six men and women, armed with short-handled, wide-bladed hoes, working dawn to dusk, seven days a week.

In addition to their cleaning work, they became wardens of the property having to stop perturbed neighbors from dumping their trash. We had not moved in yet, but news of our arrival and the loss of their dumping grounds did not endear us to the community. But oh how sentiment changed once people saw and heard our heart-winning children!

This photo was taken shortly after we had moved in. We had the same folks who cleared the property build the basketball court, as well as a concrete walkway along the perimeter to the left. We hired a local welder to make the basketball backboard and a new entrance gate as well as an opening and small gate in the back to allow us into the house property.

Over the years the footprint of the property expanded with the leased acquisition of a small house and property adjacent, not seen here, but on the right side.

We fertilized the grounds with the children’s spirit, and it grew green and fertile. It welcomed, comforted, nurtured, and hosted the lives of hundreds of children, volunteers, visitors, becoming a sanctuary that quietly offered serenity and security. Our ground lives on in several hundred hearts, the place where the children’s youth developed and where their favorite memories reside.

Our ground became a Spiritual Vortex, or perhaps it always was even when buried under several feet of garbage in its own evolution awaiting liberation and rejoicing with the energy of our children.

Every Christmas we would have a statement to share made by candles. Each light you see on the perimeter is a child, or staff, or volunteer holding a candle. Over the years, word of the magic of our Christmas grew and many volunteers would come to spend the holiday with us. I believe it stemmed from this Christmas above in or around 2008.

We lit a few children’s candles and asked them to each light others’ and then for all to carefully go and light the statement and then scurry back to the perimeter. Often a breeze would be blowing making it highly improbable to keep candles lit long enough for a photo to be taken. But every year the force was with us and as you will see, many messages from our home were offered up, literally, to the heavens.

This year, after the candles were lit and the photo was taken, we began to come together and for some reason, many had tears in their eyes; everyone spoke in hushed tones, “Do you feel that?” We all felt a profound atmospheric presence, not one availing of description, other than to say an overwhelming awareness of goodness and love, and a family blessed by an unseen energy that left us momentarily speechless. It seemed as if we were given, for just a moment, recognition from the universe, and at least I, who believes in Angels, felt as though we were for a moment surrounded by them. That evening remains with us all, though with the passage of time dimmed and perhaps doubted by a few, especially the younger at the time, for what really was.

Other messages and other years:

*****

The front gate to our property met all our children for the first time, sometimes when they were already assimilated and a part of the new home they were assigned to, coming to their first Saturday Tiffin. Other children met us at the gate brought by their guardians. Once, in 2015, Samita and Sanjeep, a very young brother and sister, arrived at our gate and peered inside to see a hundred children at play, when at that very second the earthquake struck. The gate fell, the walls fell, and they stood moments later on the steps, silent, bewildered, but quickly grabbed and brought inside, welcomed and comforted.

More typical was the case of Mary, as told in a 2010 Update:

I want to take a moment to introduce our newest child Bhaiballa Singh. She is from Humla in the Mustang district in far western Nepal, an area sparsely populated and very difficult to survive in.

A little girl of 9, she arrived after a four-day walk followed by a bus trip with an older brother. She had not eaten much and had vomited plenty on the bus. She was pale, disheveled, clothing worn thin and very quiet. All my attempts to speak to her were met with a quiet look into my eyes and then her brother said she does not know Nepalese, only her mother tongue. She wore a tattered shawl covering her head and body though it was a warm day. I wish that I could have taken her photo, but I chose not to make her even more uncomfortable. Her name Bhaiballa, is a very old-fashioned name used by her culture and never heard in these parts; it roughly means “carrying little brother”.  Two of our house managers, Anita and Gita were with me, and they said she might be teased by children in school with this name, and so I asked her brother if she would be interested in starting her new life with a new name and when asked, Bhaiballa smiled a little. An image of Mother Mary as a child for some reason came to me and I asked her if “Mary” would be nice and she smiled again; her brother said she would like it and Anita and Gita said yes, this would be good.

When we went to school to bring the children home Mary was there with Gita, she had been bathed and new clothes given to her; she had eaten and had taken a short rest. Mary took her place in the line belonging to the house she will sit in, our “Sanctuary” house. I was standing near enough to hear when one of the older girls from my house walked over and asked her name, she asked in several dialects until the light came on in Mary’s eye and I heard for the first time her voice as she proudly said “Mary.”

Mary in her first week with us

Mary today

*****

The ground was where beloved family puppies became family “guard dogs” by their own choosing. This is Snowball, a gift to Anita from Vinod.

During Saturday Tiffin Snowball joined in family games

She was loved and comforted and even while recovering from an operation she manned her post and kept a watchful eye on all the children. She left us too soon, as all great dogs do and was ceremoniously buried on our ground by all those she loved.

*****

Every morning at sunrise the children would be on the ground learning Taekwondo, basketball, yoga, dance, or meeting for a group walk, or run. Finding their own talent and the ability to stay with a commitment, which was always voluntary, they rose in skill and discipline. We still have two of our college-aged children, Suman and Kajul, now competing on the national level in Taekwondo, and winning.

*****

In the very beginning NOH started their own school. At first, in 2004, it was a free school for kids whose parents could not afford to send them to school. That expanded quickly and we moved the school with us into our new home in 2005. The school occupied the first two floors, the children the third floor. Soon, it was apparent that the school needed its own residence, and our growing number of children, our entire house.

Morning assembly at our school and Peter Hess, President of NOH, getting a little unsolicited help from the school didis. And below, a volunteer leading a singalong with at least one rapt fan.

In addition to the individual children being welcomed into our new home, there were a few occasions when many children came at the same time. Immediately below was a ceremony for welcoming a busload of girls from our home in western Nepal that housed freed indentured servants. Our kids formed two lines at our gate and as the new girls came to the gate, they walked through the line to excited applause and were handed flowers.

In this photo above these twelve children were rescued from an orphanage that abused them. In this group  we have today an RN living in Germany, an IT specialist who was top earner in his first year at his firm in Australia, a licensed engineer studying for his master’s in civil engineering in Australia, a masters holder in AI living and working in Bristol UK, a 5th year student in Hotel Management about to graduate, in Nepal, a third year IT student in Toronto Canada, and a Taekwondo black belt and grad student in Australia. You only need to give kids a chance, love and encouragement, and let them know there is nothing that they can’t do.

And in the photo on the right are six of the 22 kids who were part of the procession from our Lawajuni (New Beginnings) home in western Nepal.

*****

Among the annual ceremonies celebrated on our hallowed grounds were Christmas:

This photo above was our 2006 Christmas, just the girls in their new Kurtas, and on the right a 2010 Christmas photo taken by my brother Bob Linscott.

Every Christmas had its very special moments. I have already spoken of the Christmas when we were all touched by an ephemeral spiritual event, but the Christmas showcased with Santa above deserves its own moment.

Christmas Eve. After lighting our seasonal message we were all holding our candles, some burning near the wax shield, and talking in small groups near the tables laden with hot chocolate and marshmallows. Christmas music was at a comfortable background level, photos being taken, smiles and good wishes extended. We had a tree that year set up outside with an overstuffed red chair borrowed from Dhan Kumari, the house mom’s room, next to it. This was a favorite place of the kids for photos to be taken. Our Christmases had their traditions and this year, up to now anyway, all was right on track.

It was a clear and starry night, cold as usual. Suddenly, faintly, we heard a noise from up above but saw nothing. Then it was repeated, a bit louder, and then again, louder still drawing everyone to become silent and gaze toward the top of our four-story home when a booming Ho Ho Ho! gave way to a huge figure dressed in red with white beard, black boots, and carrying an overstuffed sack over his shoulder, standing precariously on the edge of the roof.

The children had all been read the story of “The Night Before Christmas” every year but never believed that Santa would actually appear in person. There may have even been some who doubted his existence. As quick as we saw him, he was gone, and the children were looking at one another, clutching others arms as in a reality check, and asking “What did you see?” Then a few moments later, around the gated corner and towards our tree Santa in the flesh came laughing, holding his belly, approaching the congregation. He spoke in a deep voice, eyes twinkling and told the hushed crowd, I’ve only a moment, this is a busy night for me, but please come and tell me your Christmas wishes, one at a time. We circled around and the children sat with Santa in his chair, spoke of their wish, or in many cases giggled shyly and said nothing, and then Santa gave each a large chocolate bar. When the last of the children (and staff!) had their moment, he bid everyone a Merry Christmas and was escorted back through the gate, with a trail of Ho Ho Ho’s dropped in his wake, out of sight to where we assume his reindeer remained with the sleigh.

We owe quite a debt of gratitude to this large and kind Marine Corp Sergeant who, as all Marines are known to do, carried out this mission with devotion, skill, and fear of heights ignored. He skillfully made his way undetected into our grounds and upon our roof, bringing enchanted cheer to all our children. Our older children were prodding me with conspiratorial grins and trying to get a confession that I had been a part of this, but until now the truth remains a mystery.

*****

Then we have Brothers’ Day when all the girls plan and prepare a day of celebration in their honor.

And Sisters’ Day, when the boys return the favor with a day of laughter, song, skits, blessings, and wonderful food.

Here, Dhan Kumari and Gita, house mothers at the time, are in a skit written and directed by the boys. Their performance was not entirely composed with them breaking into convulsive laughter at some of the plot lines.

*****

And the much-cherished Valentine's Day. This annual event became so large that we eventually moved it to the Skylark School. Our kids and the kids in the Skylark Hostel were the beneficiaries. It was an extraordinary undertaking involving committees and volunteers by the score. And each year a surprise celebrity would make an appearance a much to the disbelief of the kids when the celebrity would part the curtains and come onto the stage.

The children totaled over two hundred and each year they each would cast a ballot for whom they believed best deserved to win each of 10 Superlatives. Every child would leave the event with a bag full of Valentines from their friends along with lots of chocolates and other surprises. Everyone had to have red as a prominent article of dress, and a photo booth would be manned by a couple of photographers with the photos printed and distributed the following week. All of this was funded by a designated part of Toni Thomson’s Possible World’s NGO annual grant to NOH for education, art, and social development.

Hope talking Sujan’s ear off. Sujan was a quiet young man, so Hope needed to ask, “Are you listening to me?”

Nepal legend Mr. Raju Lama

Our boys dancing for their sisters

And it was during the celebration of Valentines Day in 2015 when our daughter Hope decided the time had come to put more than two steps together. She left her mother Anita’s arms, who was crouching on one side in front of the stage while the above national superstar singer was performing, and ran into mine, 20 feet away, crouched on the other side of the stage. One of our staff, Eileen Whitman, happened to be sitting near the front and seeing what was happening quickly recorded this precious moment that brought applause from those who knew what it meant, which inadvertently helped the nation’s top singer feel very appreciated by applause in mid-song. For those not aware, Hope has no feet. We took her in from the hospital at 12 weeks old. Hope wore prosthetics and learned to walk, at the same age as all children, with these. This will forever be one of my favorite photos. Below is Hope today, in 7th grade and living in Apex, North Carolina with her mom and dad, Anita and Sam, and her little brother Richard, who is actually a sweet, intelligent, and adorable grey Pitbull who doesn’t know he isn’t human.

 A very proud Hope on her first solo journey at 1 year and 10 months of age, into the arms and the unbelieving eyes of her Papa.

Sam, Anita’s mom, Richard, Hope, and Anita on a day trek in the mountains of North Carolina

*****

Then there is my personal favorite holiday, Thanksgiving. Again, traditions abound. After joining our celebration one year, I believe it was 2012, visitors unknown to us were invited by friends to join our very large celebration. Jon and Kym Paluga were so moved by our children and the way we celebrated that they have subsidized the event ever since. It is a day in which love, appreciation, and forgiveness is a goal. And a day in which I tried to cobble together a huge Thanksgiving vegetarian meal for over two hundred people, without an oven or refrigeration, by using a number of individual gas burners, well planned timing, and lots of our children and volunteers. The menu would consist of both American and Nepalese dishes, heavy on the former, and what always saved the day, we would have ordered and had delivered 30+ pies and breads from a friend’s very fine bakery. We welcomed folks that we helped who lived in poverty in our village, and those who sadly stumbled about town in a drunken haze, who would always know when Thanksgiving was near, clean themselves up and arrive early as guests of honor, served by our children.

The event would begin by making a large circle and allowing anyone wishing to do so to say something about what the day meant to them. We would also hold hands and when prompted you would tell the person on your left and then on your right side why they mattered to you and what you admired about them. We would thereafter enjoy a moment of silence to feel the energy of our collective, and then I would give my annual talk usually concerning ideas about love, joy, friendship, respect, being kind, etc., at which the “collected” would usually ask if they could sit down for it, LOL. Then, to the feast, eaten while sitting cross-legged on our ground. A buffet line would have been prepared by all my kitchen helpers on a row of benches outside, the delightful aroma of which begged me not to talk too long.

Hope snuck away from the circle and my blabbing to find refuge in a brownie.

*****

Halloween was always eagerly anticipated.

And Holi

As well Bhai Tika

And Saraswati Puja

Dashain, Teej, and a host of other Hindu holy days.

*****

And in 2015, on a Saturday with the kids from all our houses on the ground, and Samita and Sanjeep at the gate, as previously mentioned, the ground suddenly shook violently. It seemed to last forever, as each second was suspended and filled with a thousand thoughts. Then it stopped, and the environment was littered with debris. The kids and staff met in the middle of the ground, and very quickly our neighborhood all ran for refuge also on the ground. After some confused exchanges, the ground shook again and everyone sat down. A series of aftershocks continued for a number of hours.

A number of buildings in the neighborhood fell, and damage was evident in many others. 

With the loss of our water the children would spend hours going to the well we had at another house and carrying water back and filling a couple of thousand-liter gravity-fed water tanks.

For several days the people remained paralyzed with fear. Many aftershocks came with unexpected intensity. But on the very next day, Sunday, the children organized work crews and began the cleaning and rebuilding process. Neighbors watched silently, but I hope they were feeling introspective and a little inspired by them.

In many ways, our ground continued to comfort us, while we comforted each other with hugs, smiles, encouragement, and love. We repaired the grounds, soothed and watered the grass and plant beds, taking our own consolation in the process.

Hope illustrated this as she consoled Sujan. Hope is a special soul who everyone adored and were inspired by, then as they continue to be today.

To read a full account of the earthquakes and all that took place after, please read the 2015 Update.

*****

After the earthquake we were offered many events to bring happiness and distraction to the children, by international organizations. One offer was made by “Clowns without Borders” which I believe began in Scandinavia but whose troupes represented many counties. We suggested that the venue for this be at the Skylark School so that all the kids in the community could enjoy it.

This was a day that brought some deep laughter and forgetting to the children of Dhapasi

This was soon followed by a Papa’s House Fashion Show. The kids had a week to gather and assemble what they wanted to wear. It was well orchestrated and around 60 of our children participated as models, making the multi-category judging very difficult.

Our ground continued to hum with good vibrations

A weeklong cooking school was led by a former volunteer. Adam and his wife came all the way from Brooklyn, NY to share ideas of how to cook with locally wild grown or produced ingredients. The culminating presentation was delicious. Adam and his wife also had begun an NGO for inner city kids in New York and later would bring a large group of children to spend a week with us. A lot of learning took place and friendships made that will never be forgotten.

Then there came Children’s Day with a twist: The kids (Skylark and Papa’s House) were to dress up as the person they hoped to become. Below you find some interesting pairings, Little Lord Krishna with Batman, a respected former king of Nepal, along with Lord Shiva and the Goddess Parvati, and an assortment of simple Princesses, brides, cowboys, doctors, and girls in their cultural dress.

On a typical Saturday gathering kids might:

Read or sleep	Play
Have a club meeting	Celebrate birthdays
Be recognized for academic achievement	Walk around the grounds in the rain
Practice being a marching band without instruments
Play Frisbee	Or nap on the trampoline

Visit with family. Bimal on right visiting with his cousin (center) and her friend. Bimal, after a four-year full scholarship at Davidson College, is now a teacher at a private Brooklyn Day School.

Three of our children who were part of a larger group of our student artists had been asked to illustrate a book of poems about wildlife, here they are looking over the freshly published book.

Some days were meant to just feel good about life or be puzzled by it.

And some days were meant for best friends to be silly.

Or be assured that your homework is well done and we are proud of you.

Learning yoga from Cleveland Yoga Studio Yogis

Celebrating weddings of volunteers and staff alike

And the greatest of them all, with over 600 people attending, including volunteers from four countries: the 2018 marriage of Sam, Anita, and Hope

*****

When routine resumed we

Wore gifted knitted caps

Displayed a day’s tie dye-making efforts

Learned emergency first aid from Australian ER Physician Dr. Chris

And enjoyed a day of leisure with education interns from Japan.

Or simply felt the joy of the activities around us.

Our ground was a place to welcome new children, new staff, and new friends. But it was also where everyone would gather to say goodbye to the same when the circumstances of their lives caused them to leave.

The departures are as numerous as the arrivals, and always a moment when the collective memories swell into a tsunami of emotions. Leavings were of the physical person, but each life stayed very much alive in our hearts and actions due to their special teachings, bondings, love, and support.

MaryKate’s immense compassion, humor, and love

Hillary, from Davidson, to us, to Yale grad school

Jake, a man among men, a legend to our children

Vinod came to me when in high school and remained an integral part until 2016 when marriage took him west. He exemplified humor, patience, and how to appreciate and respect those around you for all the children to learn.

Vinod is now a successful compliance officer with a large brokerage firm, working from home in Chapel Hill North Carolina, with a wonderful wife and two beautiful sons.

Sam: 10 years of teaching boys how to become men

Anita: 12 years of embracing, loving and guiding our girls

And Hope, an inspirational dragon slayer and Angel among us

Amanda Tapping	and Jill Bodi
By whom extraordinary dreams and opportunities came true for NOH
Michael, a quiet, deep, and special soul	and Carola...

...still serving as Vice President of NOH after 18 years of time with us, creating, enchanting, and bringing educational know-how to our children, many of whom became teachers because of her. They both have unique and gentle ways of opening the eyes of children and young adults to the wonders and mysteries around them.

*****

My cousins Anne and Liz have been dedicated board members and favorite guests of the children going way back, and they continue to this day. They have raised incredible amounts of funds and spearheaded our support of outreach programs like the Gholadunga Home for the blind, bringing Braille printers, computers, while setting up care and educational opportunities, financial support, and life skill training to the children there. They have been invaluable to NOH and Papa’s House with guidance, mentoring the older children, and ensuring the long life and enthusiasm of our art program for many years running. Liz also doubles as our indefatigable bookkeeper.  As I write this, they are preparing to leave for Nepal in a few days along with their friend and ours Cici, for their annual visit. Cici is shown below speaking at the “Billion Girls Rising” event in April of 2015, just days before the earthquake. Cici, Anne, and Liz had planned for many months to host this event for all the girls of Dhapasi. It was an amazing success and with all the programs they created in the weeks leading up to that day, there is no doubt that the attending girls had their lives changed and found their voices.

Liz on left, and Anne at the Gholadunga home and Cici speaking at Billion Girls Rising

Dhan Kumari began with me in 2004. A single mom with three boys suddenly needing to make a choice between a secure position in a not very good home, and taking a chance with me, and the kids I was suddenly responsible for. We did not share a language then, but we recognized in one another our character and goals were one and the same. She was the house mother and cook in Papa’s House from the fall of 2004 through to spring of 2025, but mother to all the children in our many homes. She laughed with and comforted hundreds of children when only a mother’s embrace would work.

Laura and Justin. Laura came as a volunteer in 2009, and married Justin in 2010. On their wedding day they paid to have our Papa’s House family rent out the pool at a private club and spend the morning swimming and have a catered lunch after. They started an NGO “Life’s Handy Work” and joined the NOH Board where Laura remains today. Here they are attending Anita and Sam’s wedding, having flown in from Washington State.

On the right is Ted Seymour. Ted first came for a visit in 2014. He joined the board a year later where he also remains today. Ted is a frequent visitor and is responsible for establishing the first computer classes when we started the Chelsea Center. An avid photographer and adventurer he introduced photography to the children during our Dashain Learning Camps. He is a wise soul who has done much to help our young adults deal with the complexities of adolescent life.

And Toni Thomson. Toni first came to Nepal I believe in 2006. She was exploring the possibility of doing a documentary about NOH. She returned several times and in 2007 began filming at our homes in Narti, Dang, the western Terai region of Nepal, and in Dhapasi. Shown below on a Saturday picnic with the Papa’s House family, Toni is introducing a couple of our girls to the wonders of photography and film. Toni’s film, one of several she has made, won many film festival awards and was contracted by the Canadian Broadcasting System. It has been shown far and wide, including the Chaatswoos Australian Film Festival at a huge outdoor venue.

Toni joined the NOH Board and started the Canadian NGO “Possible Worlds” which provided annual educational and social development support to NOH, including our previously mentioned Valentine’s Day Festival.

And finally, Peter and Barbara (Boo) Hess

President and Treasurer of NOH since 2006, when they established us as a 501(c)(3) in NC. Since then, and only a few reports away from an early 2026 retirement from their duties, they have been the number one cheerleader since the inception of Papa’s House in late 2004. Peter retired a few years ago from his tenured position as an Economics Professor after 36 years at Davidson College. Boo, a graduate of Mount Holyoke College had been the financial secretary doing the taxes for the Davidson College Presbyterian Church and raising two very fine sons. It is her knowledge of taxes and charitable institutions that awarded us the status we have enjoyed since 2005. And together their work has won NOH several seals of excellence in Charitable Organizations, year after year.

A recent tribute to them was held this summer in Dhapasi, and a plaque in their honor ended with the following:

“Those who serve without seeking reward plant forests they’ll never walk through — and in doing so, make the world more livable and beautiful for all.” With love and honor, Papa’s House Family, May 28, 2025

 In closing, there are hundreds of people who need to be thanked for helping sustain Nepal Orphans Home and the volunteers and friends who have in personal visits enriched the children’s lives with laughter, knowledge, and by sharing their world and experiences with the children and staff.

I have spent five days sorting through eight hard drives of memories from 2004 to the present to prepare this overview. So many precious snapshots of moments each worthy and inspiring of conversation. After reading over the last two editions of our magazine and listening to our children personally share their memories with me, our ground was mentioned most often. Our Papa’s House ground is the setting from which every child’s memories blossom. Before us, our ground was the literal community dump. A metaphor of our ground being a dump and our children having been discarded, and both given new life and flourishing comes to mind. With the children’s presence it was reborn, it became fertile, a place of nurturing, restoration, inspiration, comfort, and joy … the alluded to “Field of Dreams.” We played upon it as the sun rose, and returned to it at day’s end. We planted, harvested, and groomed the ground with early Saturday morning grass cuttings, when the children walked in a horizontal line across the ground with their hand scythes with other children following, filling burlap potato sacks with the dew-soaked aromatic cuttings. The ground listened as children whispered secrets, yearnings, future plans, and the moments of joy and sadness all children experience as they grow up. It was where lifelong friendships were made, and where goodbyes were painfully spoken.

The owner of the property passed away and his patient children delivered the news that our ground would be developed into four homes. As it was, this coincided with our idea to open a few smaller residences each with the same house mothers, and so for a final time, the children packed their belongings and strolled across the ground and out the gate. It has been almost 20 years, and the number of children living under our roof is now less than 10.

Today, we are in the transition of providing the Nepali-based NGO Papa’s House complete autonomy. They will carry the NOH torch on for many years yet to come, for these are the children and staff who grew up in Nepal Orphans Home, and this is their chosen profession and passion.

I had hoped to sign off with an eloquence that will not come. What can one say about 21 years of discovering one’s purpose in life. Today is Father’s Day in Nepal, and my inbox is filled.

Thank you seems so inadequate.

Papa