Children International

By Garrett Kenyon

Strolling through the halls of Children International, the first thing one notices are pictures of children adorning every wall and decorating individual cubicles. It’s hard to be negative with dozens of beaming, beautiful kids smiling down at you. But not all the pictures show happy children.

As a writer, I’m faced each day with images of a different kind: hundreds, sometimes thousands, of poor, unsponsored children. Looking at so many sad kids can eventually inure one to the emotions such images generate. But occasionally, a picture brings all those feelings back again. You put the picture aside and try to get back to work, but find your eyes repeatedly slipping back for another look. You stare into the child’s sad eyes and try to imagine what their life might be like.



Each child has their own story, a unique set of harsh circumstances that has stolen the ubiquitous smile of childhood from their face. The photographs tell that story, and with a little practice, you learn to read the image like an open book.

The picture of Paola Mendez that arrived on my desk yesterday had that effect. Her image stayed in my mind all day, until I had to see the picture again. I examined it more carefully this time, letting my eyes go deeper to see what information I could glean about her life from the photograph.

The picture appears to have been taken in an alley. In the background, you can see canvas that serves as walls for Paola’s home. With scant protection from the elements, her nights must be cold and sometimes wet. A large metal post is visible, supporting a structure barely visible overhead, suggesting that the family lives under a bridge or in the shadow of an industrial structure. There are cooking utensils visible – hinting that the family has no kitchen. Kitchens are generally the second most important room in the house, so we can speculate that the members of this family do their living and sleeping in one room.

As if to highlight the unsanitary conditions, a puddle of what looks like urine snakes up to the foreground, just over Paola’s shoulder.

Next, we look at Paola. She wears a hair band, indicating that someone cares for her. However, the band has slipped and her hair is tangled and frizzy, suggesting she might not be getting the attention she needs. The dirt on her face and hands isn’t the kind a child picks up playing, but the kind that comes from being unwashed for days. This means the family probably has no bathroom or running water. Paola wears a thin, faded shirt, and her eyes are moist, as if she was recently crying.

Most disturbing is Paola’s expression. If joy was ever reflected in her face – it’s long gone. She seems unable to muster even the hint of a smile. The happiness that most of us associate with youth seems to have been stolen from this child.

From these observations, we can make some assumptions about Paola’s situation. The lack of sanitary facilities or a solid home indicates poverty at its most extreme. Her family struggles to survive, and she could be facing malnutrition and frequent illness. But disease and starvation aren’t the only dangers facing Paola.

On the streets of her city, she’s like a minnow among sharks. Mexico is home to some of the world’s largest and most violent drug cartels. The violence associated with such gangs often spills over into urban neighborhoods, where innocent bystanders get caught in the crossfire. Nearly half the population of Mexico lives in poverty, and poor families are often the hardest hit by crime and violence. When you add drugs and social diseases into the mix, a grim picture develops. Without help, Paola could be doomed to live her life in this alley, devoid of hope.

Luckily, that’s not how this story has to end...

Check back on Thursday to see the drastic changes that would occur in Paola’s life when she becomes sponsored.

To become part of Paola’s story by giving her the gift of sponsorship, call: 1-800-888-3089.