Finding Chika

In the earliest days of caring for a vulnerable child, one might imagine that protection means simply keeping them physically safe—catching them before they fall from a swing or holding them steady in the ocean waves. But as the story unfolds, it becomes clear that protection is far more complex and profound. It is not merely about guarding against visible dangers but also about shielding the spirit, nurturing joy, and accepting the fragility of life with grace. Protection transcends the physical and embraces the emotional and spiritual realms.

When the diagnosis arrives—a mass on the brain, a formidable invader in a delicate place—the caregiver faces a new reality. The tools and instincts that once sufficed no longer apply. Medical resources are scarce, and even the best doctors must admit the limits of their knowledge and power. The MRI, a machine that reveals the unseen, becomes a symbol of both hope and dread. In Haiti, where only one such machine exists and the cost is prohibitive, the journey to diagnosis is fraught with challenges. Yet, the child endures, and the caregivers must learn to walk a path where control is elusive and faith becomes essential.

In this space, protection means holding the child close even when you cannot shield them from pain. It means embracing vulnerability, allowing yourself to be touched by the unknown, and finding strength in love. The story teaches us that true protection is not about preventing every hardship but about standing steadfast through them, offering presence and compassion. It is a lesson in humility and courage, a reminder that some battles are beyond our control, but the love we give remains a powerful force.

As we move forward, this understanding of protection sets the foundation for the journey ahead—a journey marked by time’s shifting rhythms, the rekindling of wonder, and the resilience of a child whose spirit shines bright despite the darkness. Let us now explore how time itself changes when a new life and new challenges enter the picture.