Puhn's smile

With a dazzling smile, little seven year old Puhn looked far different from one month ago.

At that time, he was losing a lot of blood from his grotesquely swollen "nether-regions". He was about to be admitted to hospital to try to address the condition that had almost taken his life a number of times over the last couple of years. His treatment was made possible by a visiting team that were moved by his plight and raised funds from Australia.

Little Puhn had a stoic look of someone accustomed to pain. With few pain killers, his only comfort was praying to Jesus for help whenever it became unbearable. We and visitors from Australia prayed with him on the eve of his treatment - our prayers merely a drop in the bucket compared to the years of prayer from his foster Mum.

Puhn's foster Mum (who also looks after 26 other children in her continually growing family.. but that's another story) was in tears as she shared of how much she feared for his life. A trained nurse, she knew of the dangers of his previous episodes of blood loss. So last month, she left her other "children" with her husband and volunteers from their church in order to accompany Puhn to the doctors' clinic.

In Cambodia, hospital patients are cared for by family members who sleep on mats under or beside their beds (even in Intensive Care Units). They must provide food, change bandages, administer drugs and seek (beg for) blood donors as directed by the doctor.

Over this month, Puhn's foster Mum stayed with him - caring for his needs, praying for healing, comforting him through the nights of pain following his 15 operations. In the end, she and her resources were exhausted.

Although Puhn was originally operated on by a visiting European doctor who volunteered his services, his treatment was later being managed by a local doctor in a public hospital. Not known for their ethical practices, the doctor was recommending even more operations in his private clinic. Puhn's foster Mum with her nursing training suspected that further operations were no longer necessary. The doctor finally agreed to discharged him.

When they came to visit me with a gift of avocados (a rare treat here), Puhn was a different boy. His shy, fearful eyes now shone with joy and gratitude. Even after saying goodbye, he kept looking back at me like he had seen an angel. Ah, such misplaced gratitude... I wish the team could have seen the difference that their concern and action had made in his life.

Thank you, Jesus.