Free It's My Life by Melody Carlson

older woman from Texas named Clara) said most of the kids there were “unadoptable.” I didn't ask why yet, but I will. Anyway, little three-year-old Rosa is a sweetie pie. And she's so shy. I think that's what caught my attention. She always hangs around the fringe of the group, and it took all day, but finally I got her to get involved in a craft project. Then she sort of attached herself to me. And it was so sweet. And this morning, she came right to me and lifted up her chubby brown arms for me to pick her up. I almost cried with joy I was so happy.
    So anyway, the plan today was to spend the morning in the orphanage and then to go over to another one closer to the town. This orphanage wasn't so nice (crummy building with leaky metal roof, outhouses for bathrooms, and only one sink with running water). But apparently they're doing the best with what they can afford right now and have plans for a better facility. Anyway, Beanie and I decided to spend some time doing some cleaning (it sure needed it and no one complained!), and we even tried to get the kids involved too (which got a little messy a couple of times), but I think they had fun. And when we finished, it did look better. Then on our way back to the main compound (we get to ride in this funky old Volkswagen Beetle that looks like it's about to fall apart), our guide, Alex Little (a college-aged kid whose parents are part of the mission), asked if we wanted tostop by the dump. Well, we just sort of laughed, like we thought he was kidding. But he was completely serious. We asked why. And he said because that was part of the mission's outreach too, although due to lack of funds was somewhat neglected. So we said sure, why not?
    Oh man, now let me tell you, if you ever want to have your heart just ripped right out of your chest and twisted until you think you're going to die, just go to a Mexican garbage dump. And, yes, it smells horrendous, but that's not what I'm talking about. You see, in Mexico (and apparently a lot of impoverished countries) the poorest of the poor people hang out at the garbage dump. Whole families live there! And they build these sad little huts out of debris of cardboard or metal or whatever they've managed to scrounge from the big, stinking pile of refuse. And then whenever fresh garbage comes in (and we're talking Mexican garbage) these scrawny, dirty, little kids scramble all over the putrid, smelling heaps, digging like desperate animals to find a scrap of moldy tortilla or a rotten apple core or whatever piece of trash that might appear edible to them.
    Oh man, I just wished I'd had some food on me to toss their way. And fortunately, Alex did. He'd thought to bring along a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread (apparently he does this a lot), and man, you should've seen that stuff disappear. Talk about a feeding frenzy. And afterwards Alex led the kids in a couple of songs in Spanish–“Jesus Loves Me” and another one I don't know yet.
    But here's what totally shames me, and it hurts to even write this down. I didn't want those kids to touch me . I mean, here I've been with little orphan kids all day. And sure, they were kind of dirty and smelly, but relatively clean–compared to these. These poor little dump kids were incredibly filthy (like they'd never been bathed their whole lives) and smelling like something I can't even begin to describe and would like to forget, and (I'm sorry, God!) just totally disgusting. And their little heads are shaved and bald. Alex said it keeps the lice down, but you can hardly distinguish the girls from the boys. And their tattered clothing is so filthy from crawling around in the trash.
    But I'm so ashamed that I really did not want to touch them, or for them to touch me. And it makes me feel like a selfish creep. Fortunately, Beanie handled it much better than I did. She's so amazing. She got right down on their level and talked to them, and even touched them. But I just stood there like a