Packages of Hope - China 2005

The Siping School for the Deaf, and the adjacent American Special Chinese Children Assistance Center was only 2 miles away from the Siping Orphanage (SWI), but was a world away in terms of the landscape. While the SWI was at the end of an unpaved road, amidst farming fields and large industrial yards, the ASCCAC was nestled nearly anonymously within the bustling downtown city streets and apartment buildings.

When the car came to a halt, I thought we were stopping to drop off one of the staff at their home. Hannah pointed proudly to a simple green sign, perched just above head height.

Hannah and Debbie led the way off the street and into a modest apartment complex courtyard where a man was busy at work repairing bicycle tires. We approached what appeared to be the stairwell entrance to the apartment complexes, but instead veered slightly to the left and entered a first floor doorway.

The aging plain yellowish concrete high rise (perhaps only 5 stories) were all cookie-cutter vertical replication of windows and walls. Only the varying laundry and window dressings set the windows apart, and tipped me off to the fact that these were apartment dwellings. The first floor window and door arrangement were the only differences to the structure, which was the indication that they did not serve as living spaces. However, this first floor was not adorned with flashy polish steel facades or neon signs, which were commonplace among shops that lined city streets.

Instead, the front doors to the Siping school for the deaf were plain yet dignified, and the entrance foyer had the appearance of being the tight entrance to a doctor’s office. A wall display showed a greeting in Chinese, and a short introduction to the facility. The floorplan of the facility looked to be that of an apartment with the walls slightly rearranged. I could see the children beyond, as they became increasingly nervous with the steady influx of “big people” into the facility.

I know I must have been the terrible guest, as I shed my shoes, and ran to the floor to be with the kids. I’m sure Debbie had planned for a more formalized tour and a rehearsed speech, but I ruined all that with my distraction of these bright eyed children. I had walked in on a number of speech and hearing lessons, and the children and teachers were proud to show me what they had learned. The concentration, focus, and pride of student and teacher alike put a lump in my throat. Once again, I was in the presence of heroes.

I sat engulfed by the curiosity of the children, as they were thrilled to see their pictures in my digital camera and my camcorder. I giggled and beamed with delight at the sight of a very cute girl with the most adorable ponytails. She was a little startled and suspicious of me (and I don’t blame her), but I still managed to get a few photos of her, suspicious gaze and all.

The staff did as best job as they could showing me around and showing me their state-of-the-art hearing test and diagnostic lab, donated by a Japanese organization, featuring a soundproof room and computers. Each room contained more delightful children, and I just couldn’t help myself but to wrap myself up in their smiles.

We made our way back to the front office, where a Siemens hearing aid representative had already arrived. Two vibrant boys were nervously standing in the office, surrounded by strangers, looking very confused. These were the boys that A Mother’s Love had sponsored new hearing aids for. One boy was only son of a farming family. He had 2 older sisters who did not have any hearing difficulty. The father was standing behind the boy, and was in tears of joy. His son was clearly disturbed with this, and looked at me with confusion as people around him smiled and held cameras ready to take our picture. Another boy was there with his grandmother, also from a farming family. She too was moved to deep gratitude, and pushing her small grandson towards me. Both family members were pushing the boys towards me, loudly shouting to have them say “Xie Xie” (thank you) or “Shou Shou” (“uncle”).

I was barely able to contain my tears, as I wished I could have told them all to stop. I was the one who was deeply indebted to these families. For they had given me, and had given all the people who so generously gave of their time, effort, and hard-earned money, in order to give back to a nation and to the children which had given us so much happiness. It was I who was receiving the greatest gift here, as my lip started to tremble.

The fervor of the small crowd started to reach a peak, and the children grew more and more panicked at the incessant taunts to embrace me.

I did not want this to be the way they remembered our generosity or our kindness, so I quickly gave them each a hug for the sake of the camera, much to their increasing fright.

Although they couldn’t understand me, through tear-welled eyes I held each of them by the shoulders and whispered a prayer, while they could only stare at my lips.

“Thank you, precious child, for giving my life meaning. Thank you for inspiring me, thank you for fighting, thank you for bringing happiness and hope to the world. You are surrounded by the love and prayers of caring people whose universe is held in your eyes.”

I think it was expected that I would stay until the hearing aids were fitted, but I didn’t want to stay there a minute longer, as I could see the boys’ chest begin to heave in hyperventilation of distress.

It was clear by the rejoicing throng surrounding the boys that their hearing would soon be assisted, and their lives, as well as the lives of those who cared for them and loved them each day were looking brighter.

I gave instruction to the Siemens representative to make sure she fitted the hearing aids to the family’s and Hannah’s satisfaction, and come next door to Hannah’s ASCCAC when she was done.

Only half putting on my shoes, I went with Hannah next door to where her tiny babies were under the watchful care of the nannies