Small Gifts

Enoch and I have been staying with Ut for several nights now as she recovers from her surgery. At first, I think she was a little bit skeptical about whether or not we would really be able to help her—after all, we don’t even speak Vietnamese. Slowly, though, I think we’re beginning to win her over.

During our first night, Ut’s feet and legs were swelling pretty noticeably. She had been told to keep them elevated, so she was resting her feet on a metal bar running across the wall—not the most comfortable position. Patients provide their own pillows in Vietnamese hospitals, so Enoch went out and bought two more to use as cushions for her legs. Ut was so surprised to receive the gift—her eyes got big, and she kept trying to hand them back to us. She gestured that we should use them ourselves and get some sleep on the floor beside her. After a little encouragement, Ut finally moved her legs onto the pillows and breathed an audible sigh of relief.

It is customary for Vietnamese people to sleep on hard surfaces; in fact, most sleep without mattresses. In Hue, hospital cots are wooden slats covered by straw mats. All customs aside, when you’re lying in one position for a long period of time, a little padding starts to sound pretty good. We noticed that Ut had folded up her blanket to have something more comfortable to lie on. Two of the patients had brought in some extra cushioning, so we asked where we could find some of our own. We bought Ut a small water-mattress, which she loves. Tonight, she is wrapped up snugly inside of her blanket instead of sleeping on it.

Probably Ut’s favorite gift has been a trinket that we picked up on a whim. Before coming to the hospital one evening, we saw little containers of artificial flowers at a local store. I hesitated before making the purchase—I’m more of a live flower person and, besides, no one else in the hospital had flowers in their room. One arrangement in particular was cute and sweet, so I thought it was worth a shot. Ut’s excitement over the gift was such a surprise! She held it up for everybody to see, then brought it close to her body as if it was precious. Ut smiled broadly and discussed the flowers with her roommates, studying them intently from time to time, even smelling them to see if they were real. One roommate must have asked for a flower from Ut’s bunch, because Ut quickly pulled the arrangement away and started to laugh. From that moment on we’ve been friends.

I’m not a gift person; I guess you could say that gifts are not my love language. Or at least they weren't. I see more and more how receiving a gift can make a person like Ut feel valued and loved…and I want that very much.

The Hospital

I'm writing from a hotel room in Hue. Ut, the Vietnamese lady who had been diagnosed with liver cancer, was able to have her surgery last week. Her recovery has been slow, but she is eating a few bites and can sit up and walk with assistance.

Vietnamese hospitals are quite different from American hospitals. Patients don't receive the same sort of round-the-clock care, so family members stay in the hospital to feed and care for their loved ones. In the case of Ut, her only family is her son Dat. Several of us are taking shifts at her bedside.

Enoch and I arrived in Hue last night. We were a little surprised when we saw her hospital room for the first time. The rooms are small--not as big as a college dorm room--and they have four beds. In each bed is at least one patient and one or more family members who are there to help out. In Ut's room, people were sitting on the beds, on straw mats on the floor, and on a cot similar to a stretched-out lawn chair. I counted 15 crammed in the tiny space.

The longer we stayed, the more attention we attracted. Before we knew it, the hallway was filled with curious onlookers; others crowded around the outside window to peek in.

Meanwhile, Enoch and Jillian Brewer had slipped outside so Enoch could prop up his leg, still swollen from a motorbike wreck. Soon after they left, Jillian came in to tell me that it was crazy outside. In the open space outside our wing, a circle of people huddled together. There in the middle of all the commotion was Enoch, looking a bit bewildered as he was repeatedly questioned about his leg in Vietnamese. Convinced that he was a hospital patient because of his bandages, one woman even tried to give him milk. Our Vietnamese friend Linh laughed and called Enoch a celebrity.

Please keep Ut in your prayers--she is in a lot of pain. Also, remember us as we stay at the hospital each night. The language barrier makes things difficult, and we want Ut to be properly cared for and to feel safe and comfortable.

Thanks for the prayers.

With love,

Marissa and Enoch

Hue

During the last couple of weeks, our time has been divided between Danang and Hue. Dat's mother, Ut, is still in the hospital in Hue. Ut has been diagnosed with liver cancer and is waiting on surgery, but the doctors now think that her heart may not be strong enough for an operation. Regardless, we serve a God who heals--please remember Ut.

Hue is not far from Danang on the map, but a stretch of mountains seperates the two cities. The road between Danang and Hue is famous as one of the most scenic roads in all of Vietnam--Hai Van Pass. Hai Van Pass is the highest pass in Vietnam--in fact, its name means "Sea Clouds". The narrow, winding roads pose a challenge to travellers, so we used several modes of transportation before finally tackling the pass on motorbike. Our first trip was via taxi. The second time we took a less expensive but considerably slower option--the train. (In the picture above, Dat, Duc, Jillian and Enoch are playing a Vietnamese card game on a sleeper car from Hue to Danang.)

This Wednesday we went to Hue via motorbike, but chose to go through Hai Van Tunnel instead of over the mountain. As a safety precaution, motorcycles are not allowed in the tunnel (if you've ever experienced Vietnamese traffic you most certainly understand) so we paid a small fee to load our bikes on a trailer and take a bus through the tunnel.

We must have been feeling brave on Friday, because when we returned to Danang we made the full journey over the pass on motorbike. Our climb was rewarded with breathtaking views.

Thank you for your prayers for Ut and Dat.

With Love,

The Eubanks

International Children's Day

Monday June the 1st was International Children's Day. We had a big celebration at the Dai Loc orphanage, complete with a blow-up slide, juggling, face-painting, music, balloon animals, nail painting, a yummy meal and a movie. The kids loved it...and so did we!

The days that followed were spent with a team from CBN. We showed them around our projects and spent an afternoon in Hoi An (called "Ancient Town" by the Vietnamese), a beautiful little tourist attraction close to Danang.

During the visit from CBN, Tony, Cindy, Duc, and our visitors met some of the people we help in Hiep Duc, a district in Quang Nam. They were approached by a woman asking for help. The woman shared that she is very sick with cancer; she needs an operation but does not have the money to pay for it. Since she had no hope of living and no relatives, the tiny woman asked that Orphan Voice care for her child after her death.

Orphan Voice is doing what we can to help this lady. We brought her and her son, Dat, to Danang, then on to a cancer center in Hue. She is in the hospital now for testing, and we hope she will have an operation next week. She has already received the greatest gift--she is now our sister!

We (especially the 5 Brewer girls) have had a unique opportunity to sow joy into Dat's life. Even though he has to be going through the hardest experience of his young life, he is seeing movies, playing games, and sightseeing. On the day we took his mother to the hospital in Hue, we visited the Forbidden City of Hue and an amusement park. Dat rode the bumper cars over and over. For that moment, at least, he was happy.
Please remember Dat and his mother. We'll keep you updated.

With love,

Marissa

(The top picture shows a child enjoying the blow-up slide; the second picture is of our little parade--all of us, the Eubanks, Brewers, and the team from CBN toured Hoi An via cyclos; the last picture is of Dat and Marissa in the Forbidden City of Hue.)

In the Midst of the Madness--Enoch's Blog

Yesterday, after a blistering hot day of painting out at the Dai Loc orphanage, we headed back to Danang on motorbikes. Unlike the ride up to Dai Loc (if it hadn't been for my sunscreen I would have come out looking like a cherry), it rained. Altogether 6 of us were travelling from Dai Loc to Danang and there were only two bikes. I rode with Duc, my closest friend in Vietnam, and his 3 year old daughter Sally. Duc drove and I sat behind him cradling the little girl. Boy, what an uncomfortable ride.

Soon after taking off (around 5:45) I remembered my English class at 6:30. We still had an hour's drive ahead of us and no supper in our tummies--I had to cancel class.

I somehow was able to hold onto Sally with one arm and slide my hand into my pocket to pull out my phone. I started texting away.

After disappointing my students with my short text message, I clung onto Sally as we weaved in and out of traffic, dodging motorbikes, trucks, and large buses racing to get home. In the midst of all the madness God was able to show me something. I felt like He was telling me to look around at everything He had made. I noticed the rice fields full of water, stretching for what seemed like miles 'till they reached the mountains where the sun was setting for the day. Ahead of us there was a full rainbow, dark clouds rolling close behind. How great is our God?

Where I live back in the States there are many views that rival the ones I see in Vietnam, but I don't always take the time to see them. Yesterday, God slowed me down and reminded me of the miracle of His creation. Maybe He wants to do the same for you. Maybe there are miracles all around you that you don't take the time to appreciate...and praise God for.

After all these things, I looked down at my little companion and noticed another miracle. Little Sally had fallen asleep in my arms...in the rain...on a motorcycle...on the winding roads of Vietnam.

Enoch

Praises

As I write, I am sitting in the shade outside of "Big C", a supermarket in downtown Danang. The bus to Dai Loc stops here, though its schedule is still somewhat of a mystery to us.

We've been back and forth between Danang and Dai Loc a lot lately because of the orphanage renovations. The rooms are coming along--the cracks and holes have been repaired in several rooms. Many of the rooms and some of the shutters have been sanded and painted. I can't wait to see the finished product!

A few days ago when Duc and I were in Dai Loc to purchase paint and supplies we discovered that one of the children was sick. She was in bed with a high fever and couldn't open her eyes; when asked a question, her responses were mumbled and weak. We were very concerned. The caregiver explained that she had started to run a high fever the previous day and had been taken to the hospital. The doctor said that the girl had a "super virus" and that no medicine was available other than fever reducers. Many in Danang have been sick with this particular virus and their fevers are lasting for 7-10 days.

To make things worse, this is finals week for the children. There is no way to reschedule final exams. If you do not take the tests, you fail and have to repeat the grade.

Duc said something to the caregiver and asked if I wanted to pray. Quietly, we brought the girl's needs before our Father. A short time later we returned to Danang.

The next day as Enoch, Duc, and I prepared to leave for Dai Loc we grabbed a box from the US. A while back, an individual in the US had seen the pictures of the children in Dai Loc and felt compelled to send a gift to one particular girl. Duc looked at the name on the box and laughed in surprise--it was for the girl with the fever!

Another surprise was in store for us when we reached Dai Loc. The sweet girl who a day before had been incoherent was on her feet laughing and playing with the other children. The fever that doctors said would last for a week was gone two days after it had begun.

We serve a God who cares about our every need--a God who delights in meeting our requests and blessing us with abundantly more than we dare to ask.

Catching Up

A lot has happened during the last week or so! Here's a summary:

Recently, the Orphan Voice staff have been practicing the sign language for a powerful worship song. A total of 12 of us, both American and Vietnamese, performed at a deaf conference last Sunday. It was wonderful.

A few days ago, Tony, Enoch, Duc and I took a 9 hour motorbike ride into the mountains. The purpose of the trip was to meet with officials in two different districts to discuss starting a new orphanage and possible outreach projects in the future. The meetings were fruitful and the trip--wow! We passed through fields of Vietnamese in traditional dress working in the rice, some of them plowing the fields with water buffalo. Then, as we wound our way through the mountians we drove through dense tropical foliage. The views were amazing--beautiful rivers, striking rock formations, really neat. We came home sore and sunburned--but happy.

Yesterday, we had class with the children at the Dai Loc orphanage. A volunteer from Australia went with Enoch and myself to model some teaching techniques, and we learned so much from her. It was a blessing.

I've been working on getting patterns for murals. Next week, we're going to start renovating some of the rooms in the Dai Loc orphanage. We will add color to the rooms by painting and adding a mural to one of the four walls in each room. We're gonna use a projector to trace the pattern. I can't wait to get started!

Well, it is Sunday morning here so I have to run. Thank you all for everything.

Love,

Marissa