MY NAME IS...

Buckner Orphan Care International in Dallas provides Christian ministry to children in orphanages in many places throughout the world. Our church partners with them in trips to Guatemala twice each year. We work in the Manchen Girls Home for girls ages 10 to 17. It is a home run by the Guatemalan government for girls that have been abused and/or neglected.

This story is a composite of several girls. It is inspired by the girl who will be named later in the story. She is now age 15.

MY NAME IS ... Well, my name is not important because I am not important. I am invisible. Or, I wanted to be invisible. I was born to a very poor family. I never knew my father. When I was three, my mother left me with my grandmother. I never saw my mother again. My grandmother said she was in heaven.

I did not go to school. They said the uniforms cost too much money and I could not learn anyway. I loved my grandmother and she loved me. She taught me to wash clothes and to clean my room. Sometimes we would take long walks. One time we found a doll. She took it home and washed it and made it pretty for me. The other kids would not play with me. They said I was stupid and ugly. Sometimes my grandmother and I would laugh together at silly things. When I was nine, my grandmother died and I did not laugh anymore.

For several years I moved from one family to another. Sometimes the families were my relatives but they still did not like me. When I was in a room I was ignored. No one spoke to me or asked me what I liked. No one cared that I was there. They said I was in the way and should not be there. They said I was dumb because I could not read. I did not want to talk. I was afraid they would see that I was dumb and then would make fun of me. If I was silent, they would leave me alone. I decided I wanted to be invisible. If I was invisible, no one could hurt me. I would not be in the way.

Sometimes at night I would cry myself to sleep but I would be very quiet. I would dream I had a father and a mother. I dreamed they would hold me and tell me they loved me. I would speak and they would listen. I would read a book and they would clap and tell me I was smart. They would say I was pretty. They would tell others that I was their daughter. When I woke in the morning, I would tell myself that I was invisible. Invisible people do not need a mother and a father.

I saw a book about God. I could not read it but I looked at the pictures. God looked very sad. I wanted to know more about God, but I was afraid to ask.

When I was fourteen, I was placed in the Manchen Home. It was easy to be invisible. There were many children and I could hide easily. They were all prettier and smarter than I was and I was hardly noticed. I would not talk or cry or smile. Sometimes I wanted to play with the other girls, but they would ignore me. I guess they thought I was invisible too.

One day some Americans came to visit. I wanted to hide because I knew they would not like me. But, they talked about God and I wanted to listen. They seemed happy to me. They said God was not sad and that he loved me and wanted me to be happy too. The Americans said they liked me, but I knew they just didn't understand. They were nice, but they left after awhile. Everyone leaves. It is better to be invisible.

Several months later the Americans came back. I did not think they would ever return. I thought about the God they described and wanted to learn more. A man and woman came and talked to me every day. They called me by my name. It was hard to pronounce, but they tried many times until they could easily say it. My name was important to them. They said I was pretty. They hugged me and said they loved me and said God told them to tell me that he loved me too. They said I could be a daughter of God, that God could be like a father I had never known.

One day, while the lady was teaching. I looked up to see that the man was smiling at me. He could see me. I was not invisible. It made me feel warm all over. I did not know I remembered how, but I smiled back. The lady showed me a funny picture and we laughed together.

They told me that if I was the only person in the whole world, Jesus would have still died just for me - that the bad things I had done would be forgiven and that He loved me. They said I should believe He was real and that He really did all the things told about in the Bible. I believed them. I guess if they could love me, and they could really see me, then God could love me too. They said that even when they left, He would always be my Heavenly Father. I could talk to Him anytime and He would always listen. They showed me how to pray and I asked Jesus to forgive me and come and live in my heart. I felt happy and sad all at the same time. I had not felt this way in many years. When it was time for the man and woman to go back to America, I held them and cried for a long time. I did not cry silently. It hurt so deep in my heart but it felt good to cry. I cried but I knew my life would now be better. My name is Audelia. I am not invisible.

::Bob Beams

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