She wasn't 2 she was 8...

She wasn't 2, She was 8...

More from the book, "It's Not Okay With Me" (about a little girl they rescued and took to the hospital):

When we arrived at Dr. Jumbi's office, we prayed over Lillian again, and then sat speechless as we waited to see him. He saw us within minutes. With permission, our team member, Stephen, video-taped the examination. Dr. Jumbi unwrapped her so that he could see what was under the cloth and Lillian's true status was revealed. He examined her as if she was a rare and unusual bird. He spoke to the camera and showed us her anemic eyes, her paper-thin skin, her malnourished arms and legs, her atrophied joints.
Then he turned her so that we could see every bone in her spinal column. The skeleton. He tipped her forward and pulled back the cloth to reveal her hip bone and the raw, bleeding skin that he called pressure sores where her own weight of sitting without movement had caused the skin to rupture. Her hair was almost gone and what hair she did have was an orangey-yellow color, again from malnutrition. Lillian had a terrible cough; one that Dr. Jumbi said was mostly likely tuberculosis.
As he examined her, he listened to the minimal family history that Mully had been given by the village people. He then continued to say that she could very possibly have AIDS (as both parents were young, died in a close time frame to each other, and it was thought that they were HIV positive) and likely had malaria and typhoid. There was a pause in the diagnosis, and I took the opportunity to ask Dr. Jumbi what the odor was that was coming from Lillian. It was not like anything I had ever smelled or hope to ever smell again. He looked at me and calmly said, "that is what we call the smell of death. Her internal organs are starting to disintegrate and she only has about twelve hours to live. If you had gone to Kipsongo tomorrow instead of today, you would have found Lillian dead."...
I went looking around the children's ward. It was empty. There was only one other child in the entire ward.
How could this be? The slum was full of sick children. The roadsides were lined with children who looked as if they should be in the hospital...
After some time Mully came back and Lillian was brought to a crisp, white, clean bed. The young girl who carried her took the dirty rags off her and wiped her with them to remove the feces that was covering her lower body. She was so tiny lying in that big bed, and she was absolutely terrified...
When I got home that night I wrote in my journal about the day. I recorded that we had found a young child who was approximately two years old. We later found out that Lillian was eight years old and weighed twelve pounds when she arrived at the hospital...
When I went back to MCF in July, 2004, I could not believe my eyes. There was Lillian, the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen. She was alive. she was a child of God. She had been chosen. She was one child. She was worth the trip to Kenya and I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Her accounts also said that Lillian ended up with not 1 disease...she had nothing wrong other than malnutrition. She also told that her 2 older sisters were found after they had been kicked out and all 3 were reunited and in a safe shelter at MCF.

The last paragraph above made me think of the starfish that washed up on shore and the little boy who started throwing them back. When a man came up to him and said, "You won't be able to save them all, you are wasting your time, you can't make a difference." And the little boy said, "I made a difference to this one, as he tossed the starfish back in the ocean."

We can make a difference. We can help 1. We can give supplies, give some comfort or a smile with clean water to some. We can give a jump rope, a soccer ball, a sucker to some. Clean underwear to others. If many would do a little...these kids, these mothers could possibly have a life.