Dear Friends,

Today we visited four more of our twenty sponsored orphanages. I’ve been rejoicing in the improvements in the lives of the children, as I have the unique perspective among our team of having visited all of these same orphanages before we started helping them. The children are all better fed, better clothed, and living in much better facilities. Yet I’m still painfully aware of how poor they and the orphanage directors are in comparison to myself. I often think about the fact that the only real difference between me and them is where we were born. That one factor, above all others, has dictated our disparate standards of living. They look at us as angels from heaven; we see ourselves as unworthy rich people and wonder why we aren’t them and they aren’t us.

Today I was given the honor of naming a two-week old little girl who is the daughter of one of our orphanage directors. The parents are ethnic Chin people, and it is their custom not to name their own children, but to give that responsibility to someone whom they love and respect. Also, none of the children are given the surnames of their parents. So you can’t tell by a child’s name who he or she belongs to.

I gave that little baby girl the name of Anna Elisabeth in honor of one of our dear interpreters and friends here, Anna, and in honor of my youngest daughter, Elisabeth. And that will be her entire name throughout her life! Anna Elisabeth, and nothing more.

Below are a few photos of the day’s highlights. Yet a small book couldn’t do this day justice! — David

Talking to the parents of Anna Elisabeth, the directors of one of the orphanages that we assist

A cute little girl peering from the balcony of her house

One of our orphanage directors (a widow) standing in a rice field we just bought for her orphanage

I visited this sewing school that we’ve started for some of our older orphan girls. No electricity needed!

Philip Barker introducing our team to some orphans in their just-completed (and not-yet painted) new building

One of the region’s pioneer evangelists. He stopped me to tell me that he had been distributing far and wide the Chin, Mizo and Burmese translations of The Disciple-Making Minister.

One of hundreds of happy children with whom we spent time with today