She sat down on her couch and leaned back into its soft, welcoming comfort and breathed out a long sigh. A sigh of contentment. A sigh of accomplishment after a long Sunday with her two boys who were sleeping peacefully in a warm bed in the adjacent room. The soft glow of a lantern illuminated the entrance to their room, but beyond that, darkness. She could hear one of them snoring softly and she smiled. She knew which one it was. It was a comfort to hear him snoring; so sound asleep.

I may be telling the same old story. But that is because it is the truth.

It’s hard to believe, but the ever-hungry “father-time” has insatiably devoured the better part of another year.

This is Why. It’s been the theme of our stories and other content in The Voice of the Orphans this entire year.

I think life is like a mountain. Moreover, a series of mountains. Some of them easier to climb, with comfortable scenic paths and easy summits and with immediate satisfaction. Others, are far more difficult; with many treacherous and precarious portions within the climb. Simply put, while life can be a wonderful adventure, it is often fraught with challenges and trials for us all.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words…but whose words? Whose thoughts? What do different people see when they look at a picture?

Sometimes in life, you just have to hit pause for a moment. Stop and take it all in. Stop and smell the roses. This is one of those moments for us here at Orphan’s Lifeline.

In rural Kenya, there sits a field. It is flat, and as of now, void of much structure. It is surrounded by a make-shift fence, and in the center there are trenches dug into the soil and a concrete and rock foundation protrudes from the soil.

Janat thinks she is about eleven years old. But she is not really sure. There were no birthday celebrations back then. In fact, there were no celebrations, or anything to celebrate for that matter.

Nobody likes to believe that they have a specific destiny beyond their control, wherein nothing they do truly has an impact on who or what they will become and how their life will play out.

I can’t speak for this family. But I have been doing this long enough to have a good idea. A good idea of the hopelessness they must have felt just a few short months ago when you read their story in our November Voice of the Orphans.

This is why. This picture is why. And all the pictures like it. It’s the definition of poverty. The definition of hopelessness.

The Past - Lost: She sat down on the ground and leaned against the privacy fence that defined her yard. The yard is just a couple dozen square feet of hard dirt that seamlessly binds with the floor of her tiny home. The floor is also dirt, packed hard by decades of bare, dirty feet. Those of herself and those of her long-dead husband, her children, and now her grandchildren.

My father (our late CEO, David Board) was never much of one to simply give a hand-out… at least not unless it resulted in a hand-up. That was pretty much his unspoken, but obvious rule.

There is a sign that hangs on the wall where Gloria sits and works behind a desk; and behind a computer, working diligently towards her goals of obtaining degrees in both marketing and accounting. It reads: “with God, all things are possible.” What a fitting motto for a young woman named Gloria; a name which means “Glory to God” in its Latin origins