This article was originally published in the World Orphans Insight Magazine Spring 2021.
By: Kevin Squires | Senior Director of International Programs
The room was dark and damp, with the only light coming from an ajar metal door and a small, glassless window with iron bars. One would think the size of the room could fit six people, yet this was Ethiopia, and this was no ordinary meeting. Each month, eight women – whom for most of their lives have survived on roughly $1/day – meet together in this room to discuss their microloan ventures and plans for their group savings account, but today, I was joining them, along with five of my colleagues. The room was jam-packed.
Having arrived early to get a seat in the far corner of the room, I found joy watching each woman walk inside to take her seat, each pridefully donning a new, brightly-colored dress and smiling with newfound confidence. The joy inside of me came from knowing bits and pieces of the journey that each of these genuine, real-life Wonder Women had traveled. They were all widows. They were clearly united, yet came from vastly different backgrounds – some were Christian, others were Muslim or Orthodox. Although I knew I needed to make some introductions and say a few words on behalf of World Orphans, I could not help but enjoy sitting back and listening to—and somehow strangely understanding—the conversations bouncing off the corrugated, metal walls, as if I spoke Amharic fluently.
Looking around at each and every face, I kept coming back to the words of Jesus when he said, “I came to make all things new.” That true sense of resurrected newness was flooding the room, stemming from a genuine rebirth that each woman was experiencing after decades of struggle, exhaustion, and the paralysis of poverty. Looking intently at their faces, I saw the paradox of both old and new, because if you looked hard enough, you could see the pain of what had been, while simultaneously seeing the comfort and hope of what was now. All the faces had that same look … all except one.
Her name was Alemzewd.
She was an 18-year-old child and clearly stood out from the rest. The years of emotional, mental, and spiritual distress were not displayed on her face like the older ladies who had journeyed through unspeakable times. There was something unique about her. Her smile was bigger. Her laugh was louder. Her eyes were more willing to look up. She brought much needed light, spark, and even a little bit of sass into an otherwise darkened room. But then, it hit me, “Why was she here?”
You see, this meeting was for the caregivers of the 20 children in the World Orphans Home Based Care program located at a church just outside Addis Ababa. These women in particular were participants in our microloan and group savings program, having been trained to start and manage a small business that is designed to eventually provide a sustainable income. But, Alemzewd was not a caregiver in our program; she was a child of a caregiver, yet for some reason, she was not in school. It turned out, in many ways, she was not like the rest of the children.
As her mother stood up in the crowded room, she began to share Alemzewd’s story. Earlier in the year, doctors found a tumor on her brain. Her schoolwork and grades quickly declined as she struggled with cognitive issues and memory loss. The family struggled as her mother was unable to successfully run her small business and manage the loan while working hard to take care of Alemzewd. As the story went on, I kept looking at this beautiful, cheery, vibrant, and confident 18-year-old girl sitting across from me, and I wondered at what point the story would turn redemptive. When was the story going to change from bad to good, and how in the world was this girl smiling?
The redemption had come from the power of the Holy Spirit through her church. Her church saw a particular gift in Alemzewd that would help redirect the future of their family. Alemzewd was an extremely gifted seamstress! Although a tumor prevented her from going to school, the church enrolled her in a local sewing school where she was able to master her craft. After months of courses, Alemzewd would not only graduate from that sewing school, but she and her mother would repurpose and relaunch her mother’s small business. This time, it was going to be a seamstress shop!
Jaw-dropped and in awe of God’s redemptive story for this family, I sat and watched Alemzewd and her mother showcase dozens of elaborately sewn bedspreads, pillow cases, curtains, and tablecloths. Their lives were flourishing, their business was taking off, and God was clearly making all things new! After our meeting, our local Ethiopian staff presented a gift to Alemzewd in celebration of her graduation from sewing school, surprising her with her very own sewing machine.
So many times, we see people give up when they think all hope is lost. But every now and then, you see people – like Alemzewd and her mother – who, through the power of God, are able to weather the storm, anchored to his promises to not only never leave us nor forsake us, but that he will make all things new.