I tenderly snuggled the fragile little bundle in my arms and carried her to the orphanage I had seen about a half mile from here.  I prayed that we'd get there safely; I asked for God to protect us.

The child was a little girl, no more than two to three at the most.  She was surprisingly light; her arms and legs resembled sticks.  Her belly was distended.  Her face was marked with scabs and scars, probably as a result from malnutrition. 

Both of her feet were clubbed, twisted backwards; her legs were atrophied.  It was doubtful she could walk.  I think this is why whoever had her abandoned her.

There was no telling how long she'd been lying on the ground when I discovered her, not even an hour ago.

My heart went out to her.

Several of my Marine buddies tagged me a fool for taking her.  Some were telling me that I was siding with the enemy.  I knew she needed help; I was determined to be the one to help get the process started.

At the orphanage, I whispered a prayer of thanks to God for keeping me (and the child) safe from harm.  I handed her to the lady who answered the door.  In my bad attempt at Vietnamese (coupled with hand gestures so she could understand me), I explained to her that I'd found her and she needed help.  The lady smiled and took her inside.

I then left the orphanage, tears stinging my eyes.  For now, the litle one was safe, in the care of others.  I prayed that someone will claim her, or at the very least, a family could be found for her, that she'd get the medical help she desperately needed. 

I do not know what will happen to her in the future, but hopefully she could be adopted into a family that would be ready (and willing) to love and care for her.

~To be continued.~