Important information about Asia’s Hope and the resumption of International Adoptions from Cambodia

Many of you may have heard the news that Cambodia has agreed to resume international adoptions and rescind the ban on such adoptions that has been in place since 2009 (http://bit.ly/W2uja4). I’ve already heard from supporters, partners and board members who want to know if Asia’s Hope is planning to make any of its children available for adoption.

The short answer is “no.” But the reasoning behind that answer is considerably more nuanced. I’d like to take the time to lay out some of our thoughts on the matter so you can help us field these questions when they come your way.

First of all, I want to be clear that as an adoptive father of three Asian children, I am wholeheartedly in support of international adoption in cases where orphaned children have no feasible options for long-term success in their country of origin. I’m thankful for all the people who worked hard to care for my children despite limited resources, and for the agencies and organizations who allowed Kori and I to bring Chien, Pak and Xiu Dan into our family. I strenuously reject many popular broadside criticisms of international adoption and find some of the generalizations about the motivations of birth families, agencies and adoptive families to be personally as well as professionally offensive and uniformed.

All this having been said, I also acknowledge that international adoption in general — and Cambodian adoption specifically — comes with ethical, economic and practical baggage that would introduce the potential for multiple negative outcomes for Asia’s Hope and few if any benefits.

Finances and Funding

One of the biggest threats to any organization dedicated to the rescuing, raising and restoring orphaned children is the introduction of a profit motive into the funding model.

Almost every documented instance of corruption or deception in the world of orphan care or adoption has occurred because someone — an agency employee, a facilitator, a birth-family member or a government official — knows that there is big money involved in international adoptions, and that there’s a potential to benefit financially by gaming the system.

As it stands, Asia’s Hope is financially stable, is accountable and transparent, operates debt free, and lives within its means. Because our funding model provides generously for our kids and staff, no one in our organization is incentivized by the potential to profit from our processes, either in the identification and intake of children or in the facilitation of an adoption to a Western country.

Our family based model

Each Asia’s Hope children’s home is based on a family, rather than an institutional model. Asia’s Hope hires a full-time mom and dad for each home. These parents live at the home and raise their own biological children alongside the Asia’s Hope kids. When orphaned children are brought into the home, they are treated not as patients or boarders. They’re considered brothers and sisters, sons and daughters.

Because we work so hard to foster a real family environment for each child in our care, we’re extremely hesitant to consider introducing factors into our organization that would threaten family cohesion. By “adopting out” kids from our homes, they would cease to be families, and would function as waystations, where kids would be passing in and out, and where our staff would be temporary caretakers, not parents. Even if we maintained our high staff-to-child ratio, our homes would surely take on institutional qualities to which we are adamantly opposed.

Furthermore, we would inevitably create multiple classes of children within our homes: those who are likely to be adopted, those who hope they will be adopted before they reach the 8-year old age limit, and those who know that they have no chance of being adopted. This would erode existing sibling bonds that are essential for each child’s current and future wellbeing.

Other considerations

By opening Asia’s Hope to international adoptions, we would forever enshrine a negative perception among our kids that we’re working so actively to dispel — that ‘escape’ to the West is the ultimate goal for a Cambodian kid. Fundamental to our model is the fervent belief that we are preparing our children to thrive in Cambodia as adults, and that they represent hope for Cambodia’s future.

Finally, we recognize that entering into the business of international adoptions would fundamentally alter our excellent relationship with the government of the Kingdom of Cambodia, and with other NGOs operating in the country, and would open us to bureaucratic interference, competition for resources and potential for fraud at a level heretofore unimaginable.

Conclusion

We at Asia’s Hope do not believe that we offer the only model of care for orphans, much less the only solution for the problems facing orphaned and destitute children. We are, however, convinced that we are called and equipped to continue on our current path and to continually invest in innovating and improving our existing funding and care models which have proved so beneficial to our kids and staff. We will, therefore, not be entering into the world of international adoption, and we will continue to raise all of our children in the families they’ve grown to love and depend upon.

Please feel free to contact me directly via phone 614.804.6233 or email john@asiashope.org with your questions or comments.

My wife, Kori, and I took some time on Monday to get out of the house and enjoy the holiday. The kids spent most of their morning enchanted by the glow of their various rectangular electronic devices while Kori and I hung out at a local coffee shop and wandered hand-in-hand along the streets of Columbus’ Short North arts district.

After doing a little shopping, we stopped in at home and made sure the kids were still respirating properly and then headed to the Asia’s Hope office for a nice antipasto lunch — olives, cheese, cured meats — the whole shebang. Seth was in South Dakota playing some rock festival, so we had the place to ourselves.

I pulled out some old hard drives from the cabinet, put on some Rich Mullins tunes for old-times’ sake and we took a leisurely stroll down memory lane. Kori is working on putting together a “life book” photo album for Xiu Dan, our seven-year-old daughter, and there are a few pics we couldn’t find on any of our home computers. I found the correct drive on the first try (a minor miracle in itself), so we had plenty of time to look through the thousands of photos I took on our 2006 adoption journey to China. 

Most importantly, we located a dozen or so photos we’ve never published anywhere, and which have seen only by close family members. We found the pictures of the orphanage where Xiu Dan spent the first year of her life; we found the pictures of the tiny apartment where her nanny cooked and cleaned for Xiu Dan and three other babies, the pictures of her tiny crib. We also found some sobering images, most notably the piece of sidewalk where Xiu Dan was found lying, wrapped up carefully and, I imagine, kissed goodbye by a mother she’ll never know.

Most precious to me, however, are the photos of my daughter’s nanny — whose name we never learned — and of the orphanage director, the man Xiu Dan called “Ba Ba,” Chinese for “Daddy.” I don’t know anything about these people. I don’t know their marital status, their religious beliefs, their political convictions, but they’re heroes to me. I owe them an incredible debt. They fed, washed, protected and cared for my daughter when I could not. When she was an orphan, they took her in and gave her what was, from everything I can tell, a loving and safe temporary family.

Xiu Dan's "BaBa," the orphanage director who cared for her for her first year.

Kori, Xiu Dan and Xiu Dan's nanny at the orphanage in Zhangshu, China

Xiu Dan and Kori resting at the hotel in Nanchang, ChinaI feel the same way about the workers at the underfunded, overcrowded state-run Vietnamese orphanage who took such good care of my son Chien while he waited for his forever family to arrive. May God bless them today!

What an honor it is for me to work for an organization filled with caring men and women who have dedicated their lives to caring for orphaned kids at risk of sexual and economic exploitation. Our Asia’s Hope home parents have given up other, easier careers and have sacrificed most of their privacy and a lot of their independence. They never “get the house to themselves.”

Parenting is never easy. But imagine adding 20 kids to your home — 20 kids with 20 different tragic life stories that led up to them joining your family. It’s not just admirable, it’s heroic.

A few of Asia's Hope's many wonderful parents.

It’s a joy to wake up every day and head into the office knowing that I’m working not only for the kids of Asia’s Hope, but for the staff. Please say a prayer today for all of the wonderful staff of Asia’s Hope — almost 150 in Cambodia, Thailand and India — for the home parents, the cooks, the teachers, the nurses and our country and regional directors. Pray that God will continue to bless and encourage them and reward them for their hard work and dedication.

May God bless all of our families and all those who care them.

It’s 9:45 p.m. and I’m sitting in the Phnom Penh airport international departure terminal. I’ve been struggling with composing a post for almost a week now, partly out of busy-ness, partly out of melancholy.

The clouds started rolling in over my spirit about a week ago in Thailand, as I discussed with our national director the special medical, psychological and spiritual attention required for one of our children, an 11-year old girl. Starting when she was age 5 and ending only when she came to live with us three years ago, this young girl had been raped by a series of adult men in her village. Today she remains broken in spirit and in body.

Recently, I’ve reacquainted myself with the bios of the hundreds of kids we’ve placed in permanent, loving families over the past few years. Taken together, they read like an encyclopedia of sorrows – abandonment, abuse, death, homelessness. The suffering these kids have dealt with is unimaginable. So many have watched both parents die. So many others have endured being passed around as domestic servants or cheap laborers. It’s heavy stuff.

The clouds began to rain a couple of days ago as we said our goodbyes in Thailand and prepared to return to Cambodia for one last full day in Asia. This trip felt like a whirlwind. It seems like we didn’t have nearly enough time to really connect with the kids and staff we love so dearly.

This morning, I woke up at about 5:30 a.m. and resisted initially the temptation to check my emails for fear that I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep after doing so. Something inside me said, “But what if someone has died? You should check.” Really. That was the thought that crossed my mind. I couldn’t shake it, so I picked up my iPhone and clicked on the email app. 

I noticed immediately the message from my wife titled “Very Important News.”

The rain turned to a hurricane, a flood, a tornado of horror and sadness as I read that my son’s friend Noah had been shot – accidentally -- and killed by another classmate.

Noah was a sweet, 14 year old boy who had latched onto our family over the last year or so. He had spent many nights at our house, and was Chien’s constant companion after school and at the pool. Noah was the kind of kid that really seemed to need the calming influence of a stable nuclear family; he probably enjoyed hanging out at our house more than any of Chien’s other friends.

Just hours before his death, he had been with Chien at our community fireworks display. And now he’s dead? It just doesn’t make any sense. None of the pat answers we tell ourselves and our children about God’s sovereignty and this fallen world seem to help at a time like this, much less the shallow greeting-card-platitudes that get bandied about inevitably when tragedy strikes.

None of that stands up very well against the poignant and excruciating reality reflected in a thousand Facebook posts from a bunch of shocked, dazed and heartbroken 9^th graders: “OMG. I can’t believe I’m not going to see you any more!”

Oh my God indeed.

It’s only July and I’ve already had two friends shot to death this year. I’m beginning to hate these damned guns as much as I already hate cancer. What in God’s name is wrong with this world?

So today, I’ve walked around in some sort of a fog, carrying around this horror like some sort of disease. Nothing really tastes good, and I’ve got a throbbing behind my eyes that crying won’t wash away. My heart is broken for Noah’s family, for his girlfriend, for his classmates, for his friends who watched him die, for the boy who accidentally pulled the trigger. And for my son.

I feel completely helpless. All this happens and I’m 9,000 miles away. Trying to parent via Skype is difficult even in good times. It is most definitely time for me to go home. Time to hug my wife and all of my kids.

So what are we to think about all of this suffering? How are we supposed to reconcile the rape of a five year old girl in Thailand and the death of a 15 year old boy in Ohio with the idea of a loving God?

I’m not sure.

I mean, I can give you page after page of textbook answers. But the only comfort I can receive from my theology today comes from Jesus himself. I’m beyond grateful that God revealed himself to us not as some aloof celestial deity -- detached from all pain, all desires, all earthly attachments – but as a man of sorrows, closely acquainted with grief, a man who loved, who lost, who wept and who suffered an unfair, undignified death in a real country on this same earth we walk today. The One I pray to understands injustice and pain. I’m not sure I could be comforted by any other kind of god.

What other kind of god could offer any solace to an orphan or to child who has lost his best friend?

So I leave you with this prayer of lament and supplication, written by Bono. May God have mercy on us all.

Heaven on earth, we need it now.

I’m sick of all of this hanging around.

I’m sick of the sorrow, I’m sick of the pain.

I’m sick of hearing again and again

That there’s gonna be peace on earth.

Jesus, can you take the time to

Throw a drowning man a line?

Peace on earth.

We hear it every Christmas time

But hope and history don’t rhyme

So what’s it worth, this peace on earth?

Warning: This post includes pictures of butchery that my disturb sensitive readers.

Seems ironic that I’m sitting in the cool, breezy lobby of a jungle resort in Northern Thailand enjoying reasonably fast internet access ad my family in Ohio is without power and enduring sweltering heat. 

I spoke with Kori a few minutes ago and she said that they’re taking it all with a grain of salt. They’ve spent the last few summers in Asia living out of suitcases and dealing with brutal heat and unusual living arrangements. I’m sure they’ll be fine. Still, another week without power? I wish I was there to help.

Alas, I’m not. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t possibly get much further from home if I tried. We’re in Wiang Pa Pow, a mix of rural, mountainside hilltribe farms and dense rainforests about an hour and a half north of Chiang Mai. In a few hours we’ll have church with the kids at the two Wiang Pa Pow children’s homes, both sponsored by the Wooster Grace Church in Ohio.

Delicious Thai food enjoyed at a roadside restaurant on the way to Wiang Pa Pow

Generally speaking, the children at our Thailand homes are more reserved than those of ours in Cambodia. They tend to give a quick hug, a respectful bow and maintain a degree of polite aloofness. They’ll talk to you, they’ll hold your hand, but usually, they won’t climb all over you. Our kids at Wiang Pa Pow do not fit this generalization. They’re rowdy, rambunctious and not a bit reserved.

We arrived at Wiang Pa Pow yesterday afternoon. When we got to our campus, a large and verdant 13-acre complex we often call “the farm,” the staff and older boys had already killed the pig, and had just started the cleaning and butchering process. Bloody yet fascinating, the skill with which a group of hilltribe men dispatch a pig is impressive. Every time I witness it, I feel like I’m watching something ancient and essential, and I’m proud to see it being passed down to a new generation of boys at Asia’s Hope. It is, however, a bit grisly, and is as I observed last night “the way bacon – and vegetarians – are made.”

These two are lucky -- for now...

This one? Not so much.

The older boys enjoy helping with the slaughter and butchery of the pig, learning and maintaining centuries' old hilltribe ways.

We also spent some time with the widows who live on the farm, and got the chance to see (and even eat!) some of the worms responsible for the beautiful silk that’s being cultivated, harvested, dyed and woven on our Wiang Pa Pow property.

The kids at Wiang Pa Pow learn about silk cultivation and weaving from the widows who tend the farm.

After stuffing ourselves with freshly killed pig, we spent a couple of hours playing with the kids. They sang and danced and we gave them some gifts. It was a beautiful evening. I’m so thankful for the staff of Asia’s Hope and also for the generosity of Wooster Grace for the sponsorship of our Wiang Pa Pow homes. Construction on the second home — Wiang Pa Pow 2 — was finished only a few weeks ago. It’s a joy to be able to provide high-quality housing and loving care for all of these kids. I thank all of you who have helped make this possible, and for all of you who pray for the wider ministry of Asia’s Hope. 

God is doing a great thing, and he’s using you to do it!

It has been thus far in Chiang Mai a banner day. The rain is tapering off after a brief but torrential downpour, and the post-shower breeze is providing a delightful though momentary respite from the humidity.

We arrived in Chiang Mai yesterday afternoon. Tutu and her husband Dan surprised us by booking us for two nights at the Horizon Resort, a beautiful hotel in Doi Saket filled with topiary gardens and bike paths. Despite our protest, they’re also picking up the tab – which is considerably more than the $15 per night I usually budget for these kinds of trips.

This morning, we slept in for the first time in weeks. And I mean I really slept in, like to 8:30 or something. It was pretty luxurious. Pak misses Cambodia badly, but is thrilled at the slower pace. At home, if we let him, he’d stay in bed every summer day ’til noon. On this trip, we’ve been by 6 daily. Here in Thailand, the kids are in school until 4pm, so there’s really no reason for us to rush to get up in the morning. And also, I don’t have a car here and there’s no public transportation this far outside of the city, so hitting the streets in the wee hours means inconveniencing staff. So I slow things down. Sometimes that stresses me out; I’m the kind of guy who likes to suck the marrow out of each hour of the day. But today, it’s been nice to relax.

We spent a couple of hours at our main Doi Saket campus last night, singing, playing and worshipping with the kids. It was a blast. The kids were very happy to see Pak and I, and excited to meet Seth. There were, however, a few disappointed teenage girls who were looking forward to another visit from Chien. There’s one girl in particular who has had a crush on him since he first visited as a ten year old. Sorry, Walai. Chien couldn’t make it. Sigh…

Our Doi Saket campus at dusk

After a leisurely morning at the hotel, we went into the city with Tutu. She had some errands to run, and we needed to stop at a store to pick up some toothpaste and other personal items we’d either lost or used up. I also picked up a sim card for my phone so I can be in touch in case of emergencies.

After a delicious lunch, we went to a bookstore to buy Thai Bibles for some of the kids, and then Tutu paid for Seth and I to have an hour-and-a-half traditional Thai massage (all therapeutic, no funny stuff). If you’ve never had a traditional Thai massage, I’d suggest that (after you confirm that it’s all therapeutic, no funny stuff) you go get one. Most of the experience skates the fine line between relaxation and torture: lots of knees in the back and very firm pressure on the shoulders, legs, neck and face. Good stuff.

Lunch with Tutu Bee and Seth Earnest

We’re now back at the hotel taking a short break before heading out of town to our Hot Springs home. I really enjoy spending time with Pastor Suradet, his wife, his kids and the staff. They live about 20 minutes away from most of our other homes, so they’re a bit isolated. They get to visit the rest of the kids on a semi-regular basis, but they don’t enjoy the same kind of drop-by-for-sugar kind of relationship with other Asia’s Hope families.

We’ll have dinner, play with the kids, spend a little time singing and praying, and then we’ll head back. If we have any energy, we’ll drop by the Chiang Mai night market. Tomorrow, we head to Wiang Pa Pow, where we’ll spend a couple of days. I don’t know what kind of internet access I’ll have, so this may be my last communiqué for a while.

The view of the countryside from our Hot Springs home

Evening devotions at Hot Springs

Keep praying for us. We’re all healthy and happy, and we’re not yet completely tired of one another. God is so good. It’s an honor to be a part of this ministry. Thanks for your support and encouragement. 

Ending the day with delicious Roti at the night market

After another long morning of driving we arrived back in Phnom Penh. It seems hard to believe that our time in Cambodia is almost over. Last year, I stayed in Asia for more than three months at one stretch, most of it with my family. This year, it’s just been my son Pak and my colleague Seth, and we’re only here for 4 weeks. No wonder I’m feeling rushed.

But that’s not all. This trip so far has been jam packed with activities and responsibilities. We’ve had multiple teams from the States coming over to visit the kids, and I’ve been meeting with a group of businessmen from Ohio, casting vision for the proposed campus in Prek Eng. In the past week, I’ve driven the 10 hour round trip journey between Battambang and Phnom Penh twice, and the 8 hour Phnom Penh-to-Siem Reap-to-Battambang route once.

I’m tired. Sunday was probably the craziest day of all. But it was one of the best days I’ve had in Cambodia in years.

We got up bright and early and headed to the Asia’s Hope Battambang campus to join hundreds of kids and staff and dozens of visitors in a couple of hours of raucus worship – songs, dances, and a great message from Pastor Tim Armstrong from the Crossroads Church in Mansfield, Ohio. 

After the service, we walked to our beautiful new learning center, which was just completed at the end of last week. The Crossroads team outfitted it with computers and software they brought from the States, and it’s ready for use. Its two classrooms and computer lab will provide real and immediate benefit to our kids, who will need computing skills to compete in Cambodia’s competitive and rapidly growing employment marketplace. 

Pastor Tim, Pastor Deering and I were asked to cut the ribbon. Until the sign on the side of the building was unveiled, Deering did not know that the building had been named “The Jean Dyer Memorial Learning Center” in honor of his wife who died suddenly last year. The cost of construction was subsidized by donations given in her memory. It was a beautiful and touching event that left very few dry-eyed. After the dedication ceremony, we all walked over to the nearly-completed Battambang 8 home and prayed a special blessing on the kids and upon the building.

The dedication of the Jean Dyer Memorial Learning Center

Prayers for the Battambang 8 Children's Home

We grabbed a quick bite to eat and headed out to a nearby waterpark where we expended recklessly all of our remaining energy, baking in the hot Cambodian sun and serving as jungle-gyms for hordes of excited young kids. After a few hours of horseplay, we took a break and baptized more than a dozen kids and a handful of visiting team members.

We shambled back to Battambang for dinner and then returned to the campus for a dance party and fireworks.

My gracious. 

Despite our exhaustion, all of us danced – at least for a while. The party lasted for only about two hours, but it seemed much, much longer. It was physically draining, but emotionally and spiritually exhilarating. I’ve chaperoned dances in the U.S., and they’re nothing like our Asia’s Hope dance parties. At our bashes, no one is picked on, no one is left out, no one is harassed, and no one gets even close to first base. It’s truly a wonderful experience.

As I said to one of our amazed and delighted visitors, “If you don’t like this, you’re going to be miserable in heaven.”

Seeing these kids dance and laugh and play, you’d be hard pressed to perceive the depth of suffering that each of these children has experienced. You’d never know that Mariya’s father had hanged himself, and that one year ago, none of us could tell if she even knew how to smile. And although she is still a bit shy, you might never know that Srey Oun’s dad was a child rapist serving a long sentence, or that her mother was a destitute day laborer who could neither feed nor educate any of her five children. You certainly wouldn’t pick Usa as an child whose father died in a landmine explosion and whose mother died of a fever before he could even learn their names.

Beautiful MariyaVando, Seyla and some of the kids from our Battambang 2 home

But that’s the beauty of a loving family; that’s the transforming power of hope. Each of our children has suffered tremendous loss. A random sampling of our kids’ bios reads like an encyclopedia of misery: landmines, AIDS, abuse, alcoholism, addiction, abandonment – you name it, we’ve got it. But God is changing these kids, restoring their childhood and giving them not only strength for today, but a real, tangible hope for tomorrow.

Yesterday we visited a village not far from Battambang, where we joined a local pastor providing prayers and some financial assistance to widows and orphans and poor families just barely scraping by in conditions that would have to be improved significantly to qualify for appalling. Spending time in communities like the ones into which our kids were born is sobering, but also inspiring. We all left with an even greater commitment to continuing our hard work to provide the best possible care for as many kids as God blesses us with, not just in Cambodia, but also in Thailand and India.

Widows and an orphan in a rural village

Will you continue to pray with me? We need more churches to come alongside Asia’s Hope to bless orphans with high-quality, loving Christian homes. Our need in India – our newest ministry field – is especially great. I believe that God wants more from any of us than we can possibly imagine. Please join me in begging God for three, four – even five – new partnering churches in the next six months.

Tomorrow we head off to Thailand. I promise more pics and stories after we hit the ground.

Peace.

After yesterday's all-day extravaganza, I was too tired to post. Today I'm too busy: another full day. 

I will let Seth Earnest's great post serve as my update for now. When I have the time I will do my best to write a suitable entry.

After church on Sunday, we drove directly from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap, a five hour and 5,000 cow journey through the Cambodian countryside. Since my first trip in 2000, the road has improved dramatically, but it was still basic enough in areas to keep my attention fully at the task of delivering our team of five without incident or injury to the 12^th Century capital of the Khmer empire.

My friend and colleague Seth Earnest has done an excellent job describing the vast temple complex of Angkor; it’s a joy to read the observations of such an enthusiastic first-time visitor to what is indisputably one of the world’s most impressive monuments to ancient man’s architectural ingenuity and artistic expertise.

After a long and exhausting Monday exploring the rocky ruins of temples and tombs, we drove yesterday another three hours to Battambang. After visiting our nearly-completed Battambang campus and joining the team from Crossroads Church (Mansfield, Ohio) at an appreciation banquet for our Cambodian staff, my head has been filled with thoughts about what man builds and for whom.

Certainly the modern-day ministry of Asia’s Hope is almost entirely dissimilar to the medieval-era kingdom of Angkor. That hasn’t stopped me from drawing comparisons in my mind, though.

The former was built for the wealthy and the powerful and for the glory of earthly kings. Thousands of years after its construction, the great city of Angkor remains a powerful symbol of the rise and decline of a great human empire. The Cambodian monarchs that designed and demanded the amazing feats of engineering have long since died, their names mere legends, shrouded in the mists of history.

Asia’s Hope, on the other hand, is being built for the benefit of the poor upon the command and under the authority of a Monarch whose kingdom will never pass away. Our  buildings will probably not last nearly as long as those of the Angkorian kings; certainly no one will be naming architectural styles or historical epochs after them. But the work we’re doing is eternal. The lives of the hundreds of kids currently in our care and those of the thousands of orphaned kids who will be served by the land and houses we’re investing in today are worth far more than the wealth of all world’s ruling families combined.

It’s late now. We’ve been running around and playing with kids for the last nine hours. Tomorrow holds more of the same. I’m tired, but encouraged by the words in Matthew that I’ll paraphrase here: “And Jesus said, ‘If you have not played Steal the Bacon with the least of these my brethren, you have not played Steal the Bacon with me.”

Our new learning center, with two classrooms and a computer lab, will benefit all the students at Asia's Hope by providing a venue for academic enrichment and vocational trainingBattambang 3, Battambang 6 and Battambang 7 Children's Homes; a year and a half ago, this was just dirt and a few trees!

Our Battambang 8 home is nearing completion; the kids and staff are currently living in a guest house await the completion of the facility, which should be ready for occupancy in about a monthSimon says...Touring the new facilities

Beautiful Battambang 1 Home kidsStaff appreciation banquet hosted by the team from Crossroads Church in Mansfield, Ohio