Light, Love, and Responsibility - Sunday with NPH

Below is a wonderful reflection from Rory Cooney, the Director of Liturgy and Music at St. Anne Catholic Church in Barrington, IL that highlights the children of NPH and the recent Pequeno Tour in the Midwest region. 

No, not Neil Patrick Harris. "Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos."

Our parish almsgiving project this year was tied to Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos ("Our little brothers and sisters"), a project that began 60 years ago based on the vision of Fr. William Wasson. A newly assigned associate in a parish in Cuernavaca, México, Fr. Wasson intervened with a court to dismiss charges against an orphan boy who stole from the church's collection box to buy food. He petitioned the court for custody of the child, and not only got custody of the boy, but continued to received other orphans as a ward of the court. Ten years later, beginning in Arizona, charities were incorporated in the USA and elsewhere to support the NPH project, which later became affiliated with one another. In addition to the house in Mexico, there are now NPH houses in Bolivia, the Dominican Republic, El Salvador, Guatemala, Haiti, Honduras, Nicaragua and Peru.

I discovered that I have my own strange ties to the people involved with NPH as well. A former associate pastor of St. Anne, Fr. Jim Hurlbert, left his pastorate about 5 years ago at St. Alphonsus Liguori in the city of Chicago, and, with the blessing of the cardinal, went to NPH Guatemala as a spiritual guide with a vision to build a chapel for the pequeños there, which he has done with donations from friends and colleagues in the States. And an Arizona family, Trisha and Jim Hoyt, whom I've known especially through Trisha's catechetical work around the country (Jim is a deacon), has at least two children who are intimately involved with NPH, and their daughter Melissa is the special events officer for NPH in the midwest, with an office in Chicago. A video that her brother Chris made about his work with NPH is shown below.

The preacher at all the masses was Fr. Ron Hicks, a young priest who had worked with NPH after college and then for several years as a priest. Ron is now, thanks be to God, the new Vicar General for the Archdiocese of Chicago. In his homily, he challenged us to be light for a world full of darkness by our continued support of NPH. He told stories, and had Alexis, one of the young men who was visiting with the NPH group, tell a bit of his story so we had some idea of who the kids are who are in the NPH project. Alexis told us that he was born sickly, and that his mother was extremely poor. At the age of two, she abandoned him, and when he came to NPH he was malnourished and sick. The boy who stood before us had obviously recovered completely, had just finished high school, and was giving back a year of service to NPH by teaching physical education and being a "big brother" to younger boys in the dormitory.

What struck me was that these were not ordinary orphanages at all: these kids were not going to have foster homes. NPH creates communities. Those who work there give the children who come to them unconditional love, food, education, and an environment for growth. They teach the children the responsibilities that come from love; particularly, they expect that, after graduation, the children will give a year of service back to NPH in some capacity for which they have a gift. Fr. Ron said that many people ask him if children leave without doing so, if, after graduation, they just walk away. He said that in 25 years of association with NPH, he has not heard of that happening in any of the homes.

A Guatemalan cultural group in Chicago gave NPH the use of their beautiful twin marimba set, and the kids sang songs during mass, danced, and performed at a fiesta for the parish on Saturday evening. During mass they sang some of their own liturgical songs ("Vamos al altar," and a Marian song called "Es Maria la paloma blanca") accompanied by marimba and drums, as well as the more familiar "De Colores" and an arrangement with Spanish text of the Sebastian Temple Prayer of St. Francis, "Hazme un instrumento de tu paz."

The kids stayed with host families in the parish for two weeks while they visited churches and schools in Chicagoland, and the parishioners I spoke to had a great time with them in those visits.

As you might suspect, there was a time when the "old Rory" would have had una vaca about this irruption into the Lenten liturgy on a scrutiny Sunday, performing at mass, etc. etc. But being older has some benefits, and one of them is clearer vision (I hope) about what liturgy is for, who belongs, and (thank you, James Alison) who the real protagonist is. Maybe that vision, in fact, was created in this blind man by the same fingers that made mud paste on the Sabbath by the pool of Siloam, who gave the light of creation to one who was born blind. I may have earned that blindness through education, and clung to it tenaciously for some years, but I would like to say some day that "now I can see," and that my sight was restored, as we proclaimed in the gospel and in the scrutiny, by the one who is light of the world.

Better Vision Comes to Rancho Santa Fe

Enjoy this reflection from Jean Parker on her recent experience at NPH Honduras. The mother is currently living at a home for the blind, while her daughter is enrolled at NPH Honduras.

My daughter, Joanna (14) had been nagging me to return to Rancho Santa Fe in Honduras since our first visit in 2013. When a trip planned by Monica Henry, NPH Northeast Regional Director, coincided with a school break, Joanna’s resolve went into overdrive and she convinced her friend, Laura (14) to join us. In the end, Laura, her brother Kevin (16), and her father, Dr. Richard Seeger – an ophthalmologist - would round out the Rochester contingency.

Dr. Seeger was interested in putting his medical skills to use during the visit, and had pre-arranged with Monica Henry, NPH USA Mid-Atlantic/Northeast Region Director, and Michael Kavanagh, the International Volunteer Coordinator of Holy Family Surgery Center at the Ranch, to see pequeños for a special, three day Vision Clinic.

While the children explored the Ranch and got to know the pequeños, Dr. Seeger checked equipment and set up the examination area.  My job was to record exam findings. A translator was provided and kept the paperwork and patients flowing.  Thanks to this team effort, Dr. Seeger was able to provide eye care for over 60 Pequeños and others during the three-day period.

Each day, Dr. Seeger worked tirelessly with only limited breaks. Some children required minor attention, but most received full ophthalmic exams with pupil dilation.   For those needing prescription eyeglasses, Dr. Seeger had come prepared, bringing an assortment of frames from which to choose.  Girls were drawn to the brighter colors.  Boys chose darker ones.  Dr. Seeger had the eyeglasses prepared back in Rochester, and they were shipped down to Honduras afterwards.

               

As word spread that an eye doctor was at the clinic, several staff also requested appointments.  Dr. Seeger accommodated each one.   Doña Gloria – the Ranch’s beloved tortilla maker - was the recipient of two pairs of glasses:  one for reading and one for everyday wear.

Although it was immensely gratifying to me to be of assistance during the Vision Clinic, the most poignant moment of the trip came on the last day, as Dr. Seeger and I were walking back to the visitor’s residence.   We were met by a group of women who were leading a blind teenaged girl and a younger girl by the hand.  Monica was with them, and we were told that the blind teenager was the mother of the young girl, and that she was concerned that her daughter might be going blind, as she had when she was her age.   This was of great concern because the child had become her blind mother’s ‘eyes’ – guiding her everywhere.  Dr. Seeger did not hesitate; he pulled out his ophthalmic light, dropping to one knee to examine the petite child.  Happily, he determined that her eyes were healthy.

Monica translated this to the girl’s mother and Dr. Seeger offered to look at the mother’s eyes as well. After only a brief glance, he asked to speak privately to Monica and the accompanying Tia.  I was perplexed, but remained with the young mother, her daughter, and the others.  It was only later that I learned the reason for Rick’s action.

Although the young mother had been initially reticent to share the truth about her blindness, the facts soon emerged.  She had been the victim of a horrific crime and had been intentionally blinded by acid.   Dr. Seeger knew the instant he had looked at her eyes that her blindness had been caused by trauma, and not as initially described.

Upon closer examination, Dr. Seeger established that although one eye was irreparably damaged, there was optimism that some vision might be restored in the other. A trip to the USA for delicate eye surgery would be necessary, with the hope that she would be able to ambulate on her own – a remarkable improvement over her present situation.

This event brought a bittersweet, yet hopeful closure to the Vision Clinic at Rancho Santa Fe.  Led by Dr. Seeger, the team brought the gift of better vision to many. To me, those few days were truly a blessing and I was grateful to have been able to play some small role in the outcome.  I thank God for Joanna’s determination in returning to Honduras, because in the end, it set the stage for so many Pequeños and others to see life more clearly… quite literally.

A is for Amor

Volunteers are the heart of NPH USA. Enjoy this reflection from Kailyn Kenney on her recent experience at NPH Honduras.

Over the past several months I have been teaching new arrivals at the “The Ranch” in a special “leveling classroom” at the school. Most of the new additions to our family enter my classroom and remain there for two months, studying math and Spanish concepts until they are evaluated and placed into a grade level appropriate to their age and capabilities. For me, this time that I have shared with my students has been so much more then reviewing verb conjugations or multiplication tables. I have had the unique opportunity of spending my days with a small group of students and felt that I was able to give them a lot of individual attention during a time when they are very vulnerable, and are at risk of getting lost in the hustle and bustle of busy Ranch life.

I have been blessed with the opportunity of seeing very hurt and lost children come into my classroom looking broken, only to emerge after a few months of love and attention into bright, caring, and most importantly happy members of our family. Just to be able to show my students that someone loves them and cares about them, is willing to be patient with them when they make mistakes and forgive them when they misbehave, makes their entire world.

Trying to undo the cycle of poverty and violence here in Honduras begins with offering each of these children the opportunity of an education that the majority of them would never have had otherwise. I could not believe my ignorance when I realized that many of the students, whether 8 or 13 years old, didn’t even know a single letter of the alphabet. I have been equally unprepared for many of their questions that haven’t been as easy to answer as which letter comes after A. My students ask me how we can be a family when they are here and their mother is not. They are amazed to find out that I have loving parents who raised me and an entire NPH family. I am astonished at how quickly they trust me, and how patient my students are with me when the first “gringa” that they have ever known is teaching them Spanish and trying her hardest to not make too many grammatical mistakes herself.

My students have taught me that it’s okay to show your vulnerabilities, because some days I just miss my family too, and if I can show them that we are all in this together we will all feel less alone and afraid. These kids come here with the same sorrow worn on the faces of children that one sees on the streets of Tegucigalpa and the weight of the world on their shoulders. But through the love given to them at The Ranch, they begin to find hope and happiness in their struggles. Through my days singing the ABC’s to my students they have taught me the truly transformational power of love and the meaning of family.

Our First Christmas in Nicaragua

The below poem was written by two of our board members, John and Mona Fonseca, which reflects on their Christmas visit at our NPH Nicaragua home.

To share a few highlights of our NPH home visit

We were asked to take 3 to 4 minutes of your time

To say it all in this time allotted

We decided to organize our thoughts in rhyme.

Last year we planned on doing something different for Christmas

And visiting an NPH home just sounded like a treat.

We had no idea what to expect while we were down there

Except, our godchild for the first time we would meet.

Elizabeth was there at the airport to greet us

With her sister and Mila at her side

We made our introductions on the drive to the NPH home

With Mila translating all through the ride.

There were so many planned activities

During this festive time of the year

We spent as much time as we could with Elizabeth

Who seemed to be always filled with good cheer.

Eating time was really bonding time

As far as we could tell.

With each meal we shared at Elizabeth’s house

We slowly got to know her close friends as well

We’ll now always recall the events of last Christmas eve

Where we celebrated our first outdoor vigil in Spanish

Followed by delicious food, fun and frolic

Capped off with fireworks right at the finish.

Wishing everyone “Feliz Navidad” was quite memorable

At the end of that festive night

It felt like we were with family

And our hearts filled with immense delight

This was our most relaxed and fun-filled Christmas

All mixed into one.

We loved being part of the NPH Christmas traditions

And joining in their fun.

We’ve heard others share “You got to visit to feel it”

We now truly know what they meant

Our hearts were filled with such wonderful feelings

That we’ll be making this trip our annual event.

Our First Trip to NPH Honduras

Below is a beautiful reflection written by Sue Bumagin, a NPH supporter, regarding her first trip to NPH Honduras.

My husband, Paul, and I had been supporting a now-fourteen year old girl for three years and we were finally going to meet her!  We chose to go the week before Thanksgiving because there was to be a huge Quinceanera celebration.  On our first night, we watched some celebrants busily prepare party decorations as we were shown the glittery and strappy shoes that each had chosen for the festivities as well as an enormous cake.  Sadly, a boy who had been quite ill died the day before all this was to occur so instead of celebrating, we went to a funeral Mass attended by the entire community.  Each child had an opportunity to say good-bye by the open casket (face only) and many little ones took it.  While such a process helps to define death as a natural part of the life cycle, these children have already known more than their share of sorrow and loss.  

During our stay, there were big moments – like the funeral; and meeting our godchild and her delightful younger sister.  Despite language differences, our goddaughter worked as hard to communicate with us as we did with her – and that’s saying a lot for a 14-year old!  We had a good time baking together after which, she brought the cake back to her residence to share, saving one piece for her best friend and another for her sister – but not one for herself.

There were also many little moments that touched our hearts - like sitting in a big circle with the three to nine year-olds amazed that not a word was spoken while the children ate their lunch.   They may have been taught to be quiet for the sake of minimizing chaos but the silence seemed almost reverential.  Food is such a precious commodity.   I exchanged a smile and eye contact with a young boy who had chosen to sit outside of the circle.  After a brief conversation with our eyes, the boy moved in to sit next to me.  It was such a sweet moment.   Other lovely experiences included watching Paul swing a tiny girl who’d clearly wanted to be on the actual swing with the bigger kids but was too small to do so; or a boy proudly reading aloud to Paul from the English/Spanish storybook that we’d brought with us.  These were lovely moments.  

One day, we accompanied the children to an event sponsored by Tom’s Shoes and UNICEF at a military base about an hour away.  There we were joined by hundreds more children from all over the country for a day of fun, food and most importantly, new shoes (Tom’s is an American shoe company that donates a pair of shoes to someone in need for each pair sold – support Tom’s!).  When cotton candy was distributed, a boy of around eight years old accidentally swiped past Paul, leaving a yellow mark on his T-shirt.  Thinking nothing of it, Paul rubbed it off with some water.  Hours later as the busses were loading, Monica (who’d been trying to get the kids onto the bus) approached us with this boy and his brother or friend in tow.  He was practically in tears.  Refusing to board, he kept saying that he had to apologize.  He thought that he’d ruined Paul’s T-shirt.  I can’t describe the lump in my throat as I thought about this boy worrying all afternoon and insisting on ‘making it right.’  We told him that it was ‘absolutamente no problemo!’

In the course of our brief stay, we experienced sadness; and joy (dancing with Yami); the enjoyment of meeting volunteers from different parts of the world; and the triumph of flipping all the tortillas in time at least once under Dona Gloria’s watchful eyes.  I have to believe that such experiences - enhanced by about a thousand hugs - keep our hearts more open to letting in the good and doing good. 

Thank you, NPH. 

"I Found a New Family - NPH"

The below entry was written by NPH Leadership Student Nelson Alvarez about the emotional experience of meeting Pulitzer Prize-winner Sonia Nazario at an NPH event in Seattle.

Written In English By Nelson

What can I say? This experience started in one of our leadership meetings.  I said something about an article that I read on Univision, and it talks about a social issue, migration.  I was surprised by this article because this media shows quite relevant numbers about migration especially highlighting the children that every year cross the borders to find their mother that left them when they were 5 years old or less.  So when Kara asked me if I wanted introduce a writer, the main question that I had in my mind was “who is Sonia Nazario?”  And immediately I said yes.

Then my host family gave me a brief biography on Sonia Nazario.  A few days later my host family bought me “Enrique’s Journey.”  When I started reading the book I did not want to stop reading this wonderful book. My experience reading Enrique’s Journey has been one of the most important in my life because this book talks about a reality that we are living now in our Central American countries, where thousands of children are traveling every year, crossing the borders to find their mother in the U.S., and we see that our governments do not do anything for these people, but I know that people from other countries are working hard for us.

I will never forget the day when I met Sonia Nazario on December 4.  When I met her I remember that I was reading my speech and she came in front of me and I said, “I cannot believe it.”  I could not believe what was happening in this moment because it was all so fast, but then I realized that I was talking with Sonia Nazario. Something that I always remember is a question that she asked me when we were talking before the conference. The question was: “Are you an orphan?”  And at the beginning I was laughing because of the directness of her question.  But my answer for her was, so I do not have mother and father, but I found a new family and this family is NPH. I think that NPH is my family because it always has supported me, always been there in my difficult and in my happy moments, and given me so many opportunities.

When I was at the podium introducing her, my first three minutes I felt nervous but then I felt comfortable because meeting her before the conference helped me a lot. This experience for me is one of the most important in my life, because I met a brave, courageous woman who is fighting for the people who do not have A VOICE IN THIS SYSTEM, and the poorest people, and I realize that there are people working for those people.

I learned that all the pain these people suffer to get to the USA is priceless, just because in our countries people do not have an opportunity to have their basic needs met, so this is the main reason why people have to emigrate to provide the best for their children, such as education, healthcare and food.

The experience of reading “Enrique’s Journey” definitely changed my way of thinking about this problem, and I realized the poorest people who do not have a lot are often the people who share the little that they have with each other.

This book connects to my life in many ways, first because the boy who she talks about is Honduran. Second because since he was a little boy his father abandoned him besides his mother. My case was the same  because my father abandoned me and my mother died when I was two years old, so both of us were abandoned by our fathers. It is why I say I, like Enrique, could have been one of the thousands children traveling every year crossing the borders.

I liked Sonia when I met her before the conference because she looks friendly, and I could talk about topics that I like to talk about. I really enjoyed having a conversation with Sonia Nazario especially because she knows the reality of my country.

Christmas Message From Fr. Rick Frechette

The below is a powerful Christmas message from Fr. Rick Frechette, National Director, NPH Haiti

Only two weeks ago, on a cold and wet night, at this time of the year when the darkness of solstice heralds the birth of the Savior, a mother with nowhere to go, hovered timidly near our gate.

The night was pregnant with both danger and destiny, as was the night when Jesus was born. We ourselves were as unaware of what was happening, as was the world of 2000 years ago. In the darkness and quiet of night, God shapes the life of a new day, and God’s instruments are dreams, inspirations, intuitions, deep rest, and silent growth as we sleep.

In vain is your earlier rising, you’re going later to rest, you who toil for the bread you eat, when he pours gifts on his beloved while they slumber (Ps 127:2).

But the shadows of night can also torment the weak and innocent, and lead one down dark paths of despair and destruction. The young mother at our gate was confused, weak and innocent, and in danger.

She was only a teenager. Her pregnancy was a scandal. She didn’t know where to go. There was no room for her at any Inn.

Her story was, once again, the story of Mary, lived out so many times throughout history.

It wasn’t a jealous king that didn’t want her child to live: it was her father and her boyfriend. It wasn’t by the teeth of the dragon of Revelations, nor the sword that brutalized the holy innocents, that her child was to die, but by the instruments of abortion.

This is what was ordered for her by the men in her life, and this is what she fearfully promised to do.

It is also why she hid from them for these last few months, until she quietly had her baby.

She could not end the life of her child. She was sure she could find a way for her child to live. Now the baby was born, but found no welcome in the world. For this woman to reclaim her own place in the world, it must be without her little girl.

She hovered by our gate, as the mother of Moses had hovered over the basket holding her son, in the river.

She watched for who and how and when her baby might be saved, as Moses mother had kept her eyes downstream, on the daughter of the king, bathing in the river. She chose carefully the moment when to release the basket, letting the river carry Moses to new life.

It was different for the mother at our gate. Her choices were poor, with grave error in her calculations.

She had not considered the time between her leaving the tiny child in the brush, and us finding the child at sunrise. She had not considered that the cold and the rain would drain all the heat from her baby. She had not considered the ants. The fire ants. The terrible fire ants.

And so the sunrise brought not the joy and promise of new life wrought by God during the night, but rather agony and death.

As Moses mother had later offered herself to the king’s court as a wet nurse for her own son, so this young mother returned later in the morning to discretely take news of her baby.

The news was terrible. The child was dead. There was lamenting and wailing in the street.

“A voice was heard in Ramah, weeping and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be comforted, because they are no more” (Matt 2:18).

This story tormented me for days. I was a witness to the short life and sufferings of this baby, whose life we tried impossibly to save.

I am sure this story torments you. Our sadness would be multiplied if we knew how often this happens, if we knew how tough the world still is for young women of poverty and their children.

The birth of Christ is not a story oblivious to suffering and danger. Christ was born into this suffering, as light in the midst of suffering. At first His light was a tiny infant light, which God augmented and multiplied by a dancing star and legions of angels.

In time, his light would grow, as He grew in wisdom and grace. The darkness also grew darker, and the cold grew colder, but his light would become deep and invincible.

Let us thank God together that this is the heritage given us by the Christ Child. We are the bearers of light, holding high the bright lights of faith, of hope, of love.

This is our heritage, that by each of us offering our light, we have made the darkness of night as luminous as the Milky Way.

And even more, when we ask God to bless the light we all hold up together, God augments and multiplies our light, until even the darkness is radiant.

“even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you, and the darkness is radiant in your sight” (Ps 139:12).

Let’s thank God together that for 60 years, we at Nuestros Pequenos Hermanos have built homes with this marvelous light, that we have been a beacon of hope for children in sorrow, distress and illness, and a safe haven for countless children over these decades, and their way to a stronger and happier future. Our homes are as needed today as they ever have been in our history.

But let’s also not let our guard down. While the vast majority of the children who come to us for help do not suffer tragedy at our very gate, as did the baby girl of whom I write, the forces of darkness and destruction are not at all far from the doors of our homes.

With prayers for struggling mothers and anguished children all around the world at Christmas, let us hold our lights high and together, as one light, begging for and counting on God’s blessing, as we always have.

Thank you for being light for the children of Nuestros Pequenos Hermanos! Wishing you a very Merry Christmas and every blessing in the new year of grace, 2015. 

*Manuel’s New Home

The below entry was written by Stefan Feuerstein, National Director of NPH Honduras. Stefan reflects on the emotional experience of bringing eight-year-old Manuel permanently into the NPH family due to the closing of the home where he had lived.

I don’t know if I will ever really understand this world, where small children can be so totally lost and desperate that they will happily get in a car and drive away to a new place to live with complete strangers, while smiling and laughing.  I don’t know if I will ever understand how children can become so disappointed by those who should love them, that they find hope in those they don’t yet know.

But today reminded me of the role that we can all play in the lives of the lost to make things just a little bit better, and it reminded me of the huge responsibility that we all bear together as we embark to do just that. 

Today I felt my heart get ripped to tiny shreds and stitched together again a thousand times as we drove back from San Pedro Sula to the Ranch with Nidia, our Social Worker, and Manuel*, a child of eight years, in the back seat of my car.  A small, innocent boy with a sweet laugh, missing front teeth and a lisp, Manuel talked and talked and laughed and talked as Nidia laughed and listened. He talked of his favorite foods that he had not yet eaten, and compared in great detail the hamburger that we bought for him, to the previous one, the first hamburger he had ever had. He tried for a while to count the stars through the window as we drove on winding roads through the mountains once it got dark. He explained to us which robots are the strongest, and why. But in his stories, so sweetly told, you could also find bits and pieces that reminded us over and over again how broken we have let the world become. He proudly told us that he is never afraid of the dark, not even when he sleeps outside in the grass at night to avoid beatings from his step-father. He spoke of his dreams of becoming a soldier, because they have bigger guns than the murderers who walk the streets. In childish pragmatism, he tried to figure out how many pizzas you would need to take with you if you tried to walk to the United States in three days from Honduras.

But watching Nidia and Manuel in my mirror as they talked and laughed together, I saw how one broken little piece of this world can maybe fix another broken little piece. Nidia came to NPH when she was nine. She worked hard, studied well, and graduated from university as a Social Worker a few years ago.  And here she is today, negotiating with politicians, arguing with government social workers, formalizing the legal guardianship of NPH for 20 children from a closing government home, and laughing with a lost little boy in the back seat of a car as she takes him to the place that will be the foundation for his future.

It’s been a long, tiring day, with long tiring drives to and from the murder capital of the world. But it’s been a truly beautiful day.

I am so proud and grateful to be part of this amazing endeavor that Father Wasson started so many years ago. There is so much that we will never understand, and there is so much that is broken, but there is also so much that is good in the people around us.

Tonight I go to bed thinking of broken pasts and promising futures, and thinking of those little things that might mean that some little worlds and some little lives just might be ok soon. 

Tonight is Manuel’s first night of many on the Ranch.

Good night, and God Bless,

Stefan

*names have been changed to protect the privacy of children 

Volunteers Are The Backbone Of NPH

Volunteers have been supporting the wonderful work of NPH since we first opened our doors. Their vital contributions enable NPH to transform the lives of orphaned, abandoned and disadvantaged children. Our international volunteers’ caring and generous spirits make a difference every day – one child at a time.

Click here to read a blog entry from one of our international volunteers, Shana Van Valkenburg. We are thrilled that Shana was one of the 2014 recipients of the Hightower and Kloos Legacy Fund endowment, created after the devastating 2010 Haiti earthquake to honor those killed, including international volunteer Molly Hightower and visitor Ryan Kloos.

NPH USA: Ross Egge Shares His Experience in Honduras

Here is a touching video featuring Ross Egge, Assistant Director of NPH Honduras, about what NPH means to him and how getting involved in transforming the lives of orphaned, abandoned and disadvantaged children is the most important work he can do. Enjoy!