Are you still with me? Still tracking with these thoughts on eliminating poverty? Good.

Now, I’ll share with you some data – data that show the Millennium Development Goals are on target.

We used to say that 40,000 children under age 5 die every day of hunger or preventable diseases. Then about 6 to 7 years ago this number was 30,000. Today, 24,000 children under 5 die every day of hunger or preventable diseases.

These statistics show that in 20 years the number of children who die every day of hunger or preventable diseases has been cut in half. Yet, the birth rate is actually going up. The population is increasing. (more…)

Sometime back, a commenter on another blog post asked questions about sending gifts to our sponsored children:

• Do they make a difference?
• Should we wait until we hear about a need?
• Do the children appreciate our gifts?

One of my earliest lessons in the importance of our gifts came from Tausi (Tanzania). I began sponsoring her soon after her stated birth date (which later proved to be wrong, but…) and immediately sent a gift of $25. (more…)

After passing by a hazy eastern tip of Cuba, our American Airlines flight banked steeply to the right and within minutes we were passing over the northern peninsula of Haiti, so recognizable due to the heavily rutted landscape.

The French had not been kind when they ravaged the once-lush western half of Hispaniola of all the mahogany trees and shipped the lumber back to Paris to make fine furniture.

More than 200 years later, the nation is still 90 percent barren, and what little good topsoil remains is eroding into the Caribbean.

We circled over the Canal du Sud strait approaching Port-au-Prince, a teeming city I had not been to in 19 years. As we touched down on the single runway “international” airport, memories began to take focus.

Child Survival – What Does Ti Chape Means?

I’ll never forget that trip. A wiry American with a unique accent was my guide. He had been living in Haiti for six years, assisting with various ministries, and eventually signing on full time with Compassion. His name was Wess Stafford.

It was on that trip that I snapped one of my all-time favorite photos: a little child of about 3 with a distended belly, wearing a ragged striped T-shirt and nothing else, proudly hoisting his torn little handmade kite on a 10-foot string made of scraps of twine and wire he had found.

The breeze was only keeping the kite about 5 feet aloft, but the boy was as gleeful as any child I had ever seen.

Wess was seated next to me in our van, and noticed my fascination with the tiny urchin.

“Ah, yes … another little Ti Chape.”

“What is a Ti Chape?”

“It’s a Creole phrase that many parents in these poorest areas of Haiti use with their youngest kids. I’m sure you’ll hear it often over the next several days as we visit homes. It’s a term of endearment … but also a harsh reality that reminds everyone of how devastating each day can be for people living on the brink. Ti Chape means little survivor or one who has escaped death.”

As a very tenderhearted man, Wess could not conceal his passion, and tears began to well in his eyes. With a catch in his throat he continued:

“Sadly, for the majority of the poor here in Haiti, the infant mortality rate is as high as 50 percent for children under the age of 5.

“Often parents won’t refer to their littlest ones by their birth name until they celebrate their fifth birthday because they know all too well that many of them won’t make it that far.

“While they are still in this most vulnerable toddler stage, the children are affectionately called Ti Chape.

“I guess it is often too painful to consistently call them by their real names for fear of assigning too much hope to their prospects.

“This same phenomena happens, by different names of course, in other desperately poor cultures around the globe.”

I watched intently for a few more minutes as that toddler joyfully tried to keep his tattered toy buoyant on the air. Then we lurched forward in the traffic flow.

For the rest of our stay I pondered what that child’s chances of survival really were.

Even now, whenever I look at that tyke’s photo in my collection, it gives me great pause, and those feelings all came back to me as we drove through the packed streets of Port-au-Prince again.

On the trip’s final day, we drove out the N2 highway along the southern Massif de la Hotte peninsula, weaving past colorfully painted tap-taps (old pickups converted into buses often over-loaded down with upward of 20 people), soot-spewing diesel trucks, and U.N. troop patrol vehicles that help keep the peace in the politically unstable environment.

We were headed out to see one of our child development centers — one that had been in existence for 23 years, but had added a new program just a few years before, a program that is helping revolutionize our work: our Child Survival Program. (more…)

By the grace of God, the “Twinkie Project” has wrapped up a successful phase in its development. Morgan arrived back in the U.S. earlier this week. And I feel like I have caught a glimpse of what this thing could be. I’m pretty excited.

Did you have a chance to read some of her latest work? Here are some excerpts. Read and pass along. Please. Share her stories.

The Unexpected Picture

In today’s culture it is almost a fad to put money into charities, or to buy brands that support a cause, which is great … but I wonder if that is numbing us to the reality of the world that is beyond our safe and comfortable walls.

I wonder if we have been overexposed to the idea of poverty to the point of forgetting that it is not simply about a continent, a country or a group of people … it is about a life. It is one heart, one mind, one prisoner, one child and one future.

We must narrow our focus, we have to look through the feel-good hype and let our hearts truly feel for the people, not just the feeling of donating.

If we maintain such a broad focus of poverty, it is almost impossible to do anything to put a dent in it … but if we can hone in on one life, think of the difference we can make.

Through Dessiray’s Eyes

Most people would agree, at least to some extent, that “The eyes are the window to the soul.” Somehow eyes manage to tell more about a person than could be said by words, stories or descriptions.

Perhaps it’s because eyes display emotion: They light up when we are happy, look exhausted when we are tired, display fear and worry, and are the gateway for tears when we are sad.

Maybe they say so much because for most of us, they capture our experiences and paint the pictures of our memories. It is through them that some of the most beautiful and also some of the most horrific things become a part of us as we make our way through life.

What we see, who we see and where we see it colors our “window” and leaves a mark on how we will view the world and how we view our own souls. This is why we often wish we could see things through the “eyes of others,” or we attempt to see the world through “rose-colored lenses.” We are aware that things appear different depending on the eyes through which we are looking.

A window is a piece of glass that goes two ways, so if it is true that the eyes are the window INTO the soul, that means they are also the window OUT of the soul. This makes me wonder, as I stare into the eyes of the children, what they see when they look out.

Please pray for the hearts of children that Morgan loved and touched with the grace of God while she was there.

Do you ever feel as if you are on the cusp of something big? Do you wrestle with restlessness in your spirit that you can neither calm nor pinpoint a reason for? It’s as if you feel that you, your life, is on the brink of something, a major change or transition; like something is about to happen and you have a big part in it – you just don’t know what or how.

That’s where I’m at. And I’ve decided that, despite the mystery of it and the frustration that comes with the not knowing, I’m excited anyway.

If you don’t remember or if you are new here, I have been sporadically writing about a program nicknamed the “Twinkie Project,” which has been in development since last August. I have tempted and beaten around the bush for months about what it is and when it will come to light. And I’m still doing so.

But … it is now time my friends to tear off some of the wrapping and let you see a little of what this thing is about. Just a glimpse though. It’s really an out-of-context look, but then again it’s also kind of in the context. (more…)

Giving back to the community has become chic for many who are in the public eye and have the resources to do so, but for St. Louis Cardinals first baseman Albert Pujols, it isn’t about what’s fashionable or what looks good. It’s about being faithful to a God, Who has given him much, and helping the children he loves in his native Dominican Republic.

As Albert steps off one of Major League Baseball’s many well-manicured baseball diamonds, he often finds himself stepping onto the dusty streets of the Dominican Republic. But he’s not coming to play baseball, nor is he coming to instill in the children who live the way he once lived a love of the game he is now famous for.

His mission is to provide to those who are less fortunate something we in the United States take for granted – rectangular mattresses to sleep on.

For many of the world’s poor in places such as the Dominican Republic, a mattress isn’t a necessity: It’s a luxury. For Albert, this is a tangible and lasting way to use baseball as a ministry in his homeland. Through his partnership with Compassion, he is able to provide to those less fortunate something that will last for months and years to come.

But it’s not just mattresses that Albert is providing to the people of the Dominican Republic. To find out what else he’s doing, read his story in the summer issue of Compassion Magazine.

We’ve noticed variations of these questions popping up in several of our posts about letter-writing. So we approached Bill Dunigan, a man for the people and a team leader in our contact center, to help us address them.

Thanks Bill.

Can I stay in contact with my child if he or she graduates or leaves the sponsorship program?

If you tell us you want to continue writing to your child, we’ll send you information to read, sign and return to us.

The form we send will describe what your new relationship will look like and will give us permission to share your contact information with our country staff, who will then share it with your child. If your child wants to keep in touch with you also, he or she will send you a letter or an e-mail to begin the conversation.

The main thing to keep in mind is that translation services no longer will be provided —something to consider if you do not speak the child’s language.

Also, since the child will be out of our program, we cannot make any guarantees about the regularity or quality of the correspondence from the child. Plus, we won’t be able to help with questions that may arise.

And finally, it’s important to know that sharing your information means you could potentially be contacted by others, such as your child’s relatives, friends or acquaintances who might want to contact you for personal gain.

Why do children leave the sponsorship program before graduation?

The reasons children leave can vary.

• Sometimes kids leave because their family’s financial situation has improved and the family thinks Compassion is no longer needed.
• Often we see a child leave because the child needs to be at home to take care of a younger sibling while the parents or guardians work.
• But the most common reason is the family has moved to a place where we do not have a child development center, and the move typically occurs because the family is seeking a better life with greater economic opportunity.

What happens to a child who graduates from the sponsorship program?

It’s a good question.

With more than 1 million sponsored kids in 25 developing countries, the answer could be as varied as a response to: What do young people in the U.S. do when they complete high school or college?

While the specifics are different in an environment of severe poverty, young people in developing countries have the same general aspirations as we do: They want to create a better life for their families, the people of their communities and themselves.

In releasing children from poverty in Jesus’ name, our sponsorship program focuses on each child’s spiritual, economic, social and physical needs. When a child completes the program, he or she has had opportunities to know and understand the Bible, and receive Jesus as Savior.

Also, the child has been reminded of the importance of making thoughtful decisions about health, nutrition and sexuality, and will have learned at least one income-generating skill.

Finally, social skills gained while in the program will help the child be comfortable in personal interactions as well as in the larger context of community.

All of this combines to highlight our holistic distinctive, with the Good News of Jesus at the core.

But what does a child do when graduation arrives?

Our country staff tell us of young men in Africa who become car mechanics, or earn a living as a bus driver in their country’s tourist industry.

Some kids go on to higher education in the country, possibly through our Leadership Development Program.

A girl in Haiti may use her sewing skills to make and sell clothing in the market. A boy in Uganda may use his agricultural skills to raise a crop to sell.

Many Compassion children are taught the art of serigraphy — making T-shirts or decorative cloth using the silkscreen process, to sell in a local market or as a street vendor.

Often, children learn about hydroponics, cultivating plants in a nutrient-rich solution rather than soil.

Last year, Compassion U.K. published a feature in its magazine about this very question. It’s called “The Class of ’85: Where Are They Now?” Take a look.