They Told Me It Was Time To Say Goodbye
Recently I received the news that the humanitarian program for one of our sponsor children is being shut down. Because the organization was gracious, they spelled out clearly what this tangibly meant for us:
Yes, you will have to say goodbye to your sponsored child.
They warned me in emails and letters, then called me, and after that they sent me a nice big packet of why this region’s program was being shut down. They told me the families are now okay, that the area is now self-sustainable; they are developing well and have the tools to escape extreme poverty.
That this is a good thing.
But to me it felt like a bad thing because it was a sad thing.
My first response wasn’t the most Christian in nature (unless you consider it Christian because I acknowledged the existence of hell). A series of quick-fire questions succeeded this (with a vehement attitude attached): Why would child sponsorship program actually shut down? When does child sponsorship end? Can they really do this? Are they lying, saying things are sustainable but they aren’t? Is that even possible? Is the real reason this program is shutting down because the big, bad Myanmar dictator government want to kick all things good and holy out?
We’ve slowly trickled thousands of dollars in this child, and just like that, it seemed our investment was gone (or at least continued proof of it through letters and pictures). All of my questions were just a way to deflect my anger. And I was only angry because I was grieving a tiny bit.
(I guess I am becoming better at dealing with sorrow–check out these posts On Saying Goodbye and Memories From Sand.)
Loving Our Hippo
We began sponsoring this child about four or five years ago–I could be wrong, but I think she was around three at the time, the same age my daughter. I thought it would be cool if we could follow her growing up and that my daughter could relate to a girl across the globe until they reached adulthood. From far away, we could make sure she even reached adulthood.
We lovingly began to refer to her as “Hippo” because we had no clue how her extremely long Burmese name was pronounced. And because I am semi-dyslexic. And I have little kids who think animal names are awesome. (Which makes me wonder, are hippopotamuses native to Southeast Asia?)
We occasionally wrote, occasionally gave her family extra money, and occasionally prayed for her. I didn’t feel like we were great sponsor parents or were even that invested in Hippo. (Check out this companion post where I confront this lie—Are You a Terrible Parent to Your Sponsor Child?).
Sometimes it takes something being snatched from you before you realize how invested you really are in it.
When Does Child Sponsorship End and Why?
But to Hippo, to her family and her community, the fact that this organization is moving out of town actually signifies great news, all made possible by our combined trickles of investment. Child sponsorship works. We (and others like us) made a profound difference.
Before, the children in Hippo’s community’s had little sense of worth and were not bestowed basic human rights (let alone education). The community had no medical care, and disease was rampant. It lacked access to sanitary sewage and water. It had no prenatal care, birth assistance, or postnatal care. Also, parents often didn’t have the skills to take part in, let alone create a healthy economy. To top this all off, there was the aftermath of a typhoon to deal with after the program started.
Hippos community has been served by a child sponsorship program for the last fifteen years and in that time, all this has changed. (You can watch this video about this specific community in Myanmar). Everyone of these issues has been remedied and/or is on track to continue being improved. And vitally, the people who live there were respected enough to be given the tools and taught how to continue forward on their own. For that to progress, the humanitarians have to leave. This area can now care for itself!
Isn’t this what we want, right? This sustainable development? It is our ideal! It is what us advocates work for–there is no more need to depend on hand-outs and relief work.
Here is a cool little (blurry) chart that was sent to me depicting when a child sponsorship program is considered mature:
Although this is the result of it happening on a macro-level, on a micro-level, with Hippo, we worked ourselves out of a job. This is something to celebrate, not angrily cling to!
Hippo’s sponsorship has now been transferred to a new community and a new girl. This new girl can’t replace Hippo, whom we still love. But after the success of Hippo’s sponsorship program, I am excited to learn about my new sponsored child, to be part of changing her world by supporting the sustainable development of her community.
So it turns out my bad news is good news after all.
A Goodbye Letter To My Sponsor Child
Dear Hippo,
I can’t believe how much you have grown up in these last five years! I am so proud of how hard you have worked in school and am happy that you like it. I wish I could continue following your life, as I know there is a beautiful purpose for you to discover. I wonder what it is? Even if you make bad choices, you were not created by accident. You were made to experience love, life, and joy. I can only pray that you discover this joy.
I am glad that your community is healthy enough to close the sponsorship program in your area. This is such good news, even though it might not feel like it. But even without the sponsorship program, I hope you are able to write us on your own.
Please remember that no matter what, even if we never hear from each other again, we still think of and pray for you. You will not be forgotten. We have felt so privileged to be part of your care. We have also been changed by having the chance to love you in the little ways we did.
Live your life and never lose hope! Instead, search for and look for the truth that will make the empty part of you whole. There is One that loves you and your family so much more than we do! I pray with every part of me that you find that faith. And maybe read this again when you grow older, as I am sure it will mean more to you then. Don’t forget!
Be strong, brave and kind!
We love you always,
Elisa (your sponsor mom)
Become a Child Sponsor!
Below is a video sharing a little bit about child sponsorship through World Help. Other great orgs to sponsor children through are World Vision, Compassion International, and Friends of Orphans and Vulnerable Children–Ethiopia.
Rebuild Futures | Child Sponsorship from World Help on Vimeo.
Thank you for posting this letter. My Compassion child is aging out of the program, and I wasn’t quite sure how to put my feelings into words. Your letter is going to help me to convey my love and hope for his future to him. Again, thank you.
You wrote this almost 10 years ago. My sponsorship is ending because she has aged out but it’s incredibly sad because her situation is very different and very scary. She lives in Haiti. She just turned 20 so I have about 10 more days to write one last letter and give one last gift. I feel bad because she has reached out to me on Facebook, Instagram and Linkedin before her sponsorship ended and Compassion International said we were not allowed to communicate on our own for both of our protection due to so much gang activity and other kinds of criminals that might be posing as her to beg for more money, etc. This is so tough.
Wow, that is so hard. There is so much going on in that area of the world. But at the same time it is so sad she feels she has to do this. Saying goodbye to a relationship like that is hard, but I wasn’t able to contact mine at the end. I do wonder about her and still pray for her though. At least you can still do that. It really makes it “real” what people are experiencing in other places in the world. It’s one thing to know about it and another to know people facing it with a real face. It isn’t just a social issue anymore. That is the grief of loving people. I am sorry you guys are going through this, or more so that she is in this situation. Hang in there.