Silent

He sits in silence. All day, every day.

For at least 10-12 hours, every day: Silence.



One lonely boy in a wheelchair, hidden on a seldom-traveled path between the buildings of an institution for unwanted boys with special needs.

Legless and alone. Wheelchair-bound. Separated from all of the other boys, for some unknown reason.

With no books, computers or toys to divert his attention. No one to visit him or keep him company. No job to occupy his hands or his mind.

With no parents, no friends and no one in all of the wide world to care about him, he simply sits, all day, every day: Silent. Alone.

He is just one of the many Lost Boys who sit all day, every day at Aaron's old institution. Like all of the Lost Boys, he never experiences anything that remotely resembles a childhood.

He is one of many reasons why our hearts broke last year when we were over there retrieving Aaron: this poor legless boy in the wheelchair.

Every time we saw him, we smiled at him and waved.

Sometimes he would wave back, but only sometimes. Most of the time, he would just look away.

We were not there for him. We were not there to help him or take him out of there.

This picture from the Hartmans gave us sad confirmation that he is sitting there still. It grieves us to think of him still sitting there, nearly a year later, with no company and nothing to do.

Day after lonely day.  Year after lonely year.

He is one of the many reasons why we cannot turn our backs on the Lost Boys.

One of many.

.....to be continued.