In March 2007, Ana Cláudia, the youngest child of five siblings, got the approval of the Leadership Development Program (LDP) committee and started her path toward a bright future. She was part of a selected team of young people who overcame their circumstances during their child sponsorship period. The 20-year-old young lady faced a hard process, but now is studying pedagogy at Faculdades Cearenses in Fortaleza City where she lives.

What if you don’t make it? But I will.

And if you don’t? All my efforts and expectations are focused on LDP. I know I will make it.

“She was not the only one of my children to have the opportunity to attend high school, but she was the only one to have the will and opportunity to attend college. I thank God for her life,” says Mrs. Maria, a 54-year-old widow who raised her five children, including Ana Cláudia, by herself.

“Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for. By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God’s command, so that what is seen was not made out of what was visible.” – Hebrews 11:1-3 (NIV)

Ana Cláudia’s father was murdered during a holdup at the company where he used to work as a sentinel. She was only 15 days old.

Compassion became part of Ana Cláudia’s life when she was 9 and was enrolled at the child development center near her home.

“The child center was and still is a reference in my neighborhood. Here where we live, children have so many options of wrong things they can choose to do. They have no orientation or hope, and many times no respect or love.

“For this reason I see my former child center as a shelter offering to the children a healthy life in many ways. Just like it happened to me.”

(more…)

At the age of 3, John had his first contact with music. It was at a Compassion child development center.

Everything in John’s life could be dissonant if a particular day in his past hadn’t happened. Now, like in a beautiful symphony, John is conducting his life in a new tone – the tone of leadership.

John was 12 when everything happened. It seemed to be the last straw when the director of his former child center called his name and said, “I want to see you in my office now.”

Frightened, John walked to the place so familiar to him because of his aggressiveness and disobedience. But this was a day he didn’t do anything wrong. Sso he thought, “It’s done. There is no way out.”

He was right. For sure there was not. (more…)

Right before Thanksgiving, I was rootin’ around in our digital asset management library and saw some child photos I absolutely had to share. Photos of children reading letters from their sponsors.

The photos helped me picture my sponsored child, Lerionga, reading letters I’ve sent him. They drew me closer to him.

Some of these photos are old – five or six years. Others were taken just last year.

Some of these children have left our program, and some have sponsors from countries other than the U.S.

The exciting thing is that we were able to contact several sponsors and let them know about this post, so they could download the photo.

Any time I can do that for you, I will.

Here is what I speak of – the sponsor letter photos.

We recently gave you the opportunity ask our president, Wess Stafford, any questions you like. We’re publishing his transcribed answers one day at a time. Here’s the background skinny.

• How do you balance your priorities between a “job” that is way more than a job and your family? (Amar Rama)
• I’d love to hear how Wess navigates the two worlds he inhabits. On one hand, he lives in a world of poverty and need. On the other, he lives in … well, America. (Kelly @ Love Well)
• I would like to know how you think your daughters were shaped and influenced by growing up in the midst of Compassion’s ministry. How did you balance giving them the joys of a carefree childhood while at the same time exposing them to the needs of the world in order to grow in them a heart for those living in poverty? (Jennie Thengvall)

It has been tough to go back and forth between these two worlds. My wife Donna and I determined we would give our lives in ministry to the poor but we promised each other that it would never come at the expense of our own children. That was a commitment that we made –- we would work very hard on behalf of the children of the world but not at the expense of our own. And so I have worked far harder at my role as father than I have even as Compassion’s president.

God gave me two daughters, Jenny and Katie. When my children were young and I was traveling, they knew that I would always rather be home with them more than with anybody else, no matter where I was in the world. So I sent postcards. (It was before e-mail.) I would call my children the last minute before I climbed on a plane to leave America and the first minute I was back.

In the evenings when I was home, I never missed a chance to put my daughters to bed. I thought bedtime was about the most teachable, precious moment I had. I taught my girls hymns every night. I told them a story every night of growing up in Africa. I was determined not to leave my girls behind. I didn’t want them to resent the poor. I didn’t want them to resent Compassion. I wanted them to know that this was their ministry, too.

I prayed with my daughters. One of the reasons they love Compassion is because it’s been a part of their lives since they were 2 and 3 years old. From the time my little girls could lisp a prayer, they prayed for the children that we sponsored.

I honored their mother. I spoke so well of their mother –- about what a hero she was –- doing so much in the house, which allowed me to travel overseas and not worry about my own home. Every three years I took them somewhere with me to see the work. Haiti, Brazil, Ecuador, Africa … I built it into their lives. The best proof is that they now sponsor kids with their own money.

In my book Too Small To Ignore there is a whole chapter on how we blended those two worlds. (By the way, all of the royalties from the book go straight to Compassion.)