A brotherhood of blood (A Last Christmas Story)
( a story about birth, life and death)
Even if the sound of Christmas carols has died out I think it is time I told you about the great moment marking the birth of Jesus Christ from a somewhat different perspective.
They put up a big Christmas tree in the hallway, and decorated it in great style. It has ornaments and a lighting installation that plays "Jingle Bells" in five different tones. The children also decorated their rooms the best way they could. The most beautiful room belongs to the youngest girls: they have drawn toys and Christmas trees and set up an exhibition on the windows. They have cut out stars from corrugated paper and glued them to the ceiling. They lined up several flower pots on the window sill and adorned them with tinsel and ribbons from old flower bouquets. The boys’ rooms are also in good order but they don’t have a starry ceiling. Some of the children are endlessly playing with remote-control cars. They will soon start a hell of a race. It’s three days before Christmas but for these children Santa has come every morning since mid-December.
17 year-old George, the eldest of the children is now guarding the door of the protocol room. His mission is to keep things quiet while I talk to Marcel who strikes the note for carol singing and leads the fashion too. The Christmas celebration dedicated to Santa sent by various Foundations is over. Marcel tells me a few things about the their performance: "We danced, we told stories, we sang, we played the one -act play about the birth of Jesus…I was a magi, Gaspar…We had to go to Mary and Joseph, bring gifts and find out where their child was born. He was born in Bethlehem. Santa came right after the show. He was dressed in red and had a big bag on his back…we all stood in line and he gave us presents. I got this watch, a tetris game, a walk-man, a remote-control car - that was what I wanted him to bring me. He also brought us clothes, jeans, sportswear, underwear and lots of sweets. We must have tricked Santa because he comes here every day and the children still don’t have enough of him and the presents…"
In the Vidra foster home, a village located near Bucharest, there are 94 children. Only some of them will go home for Christmas. Most of them have nowhere to go to, although their parents are alive, helpless witnesses to the passing of time. Marcel will stay in the foster home on Christmas: "I have nowhere to go to. One of our mothers here, mother Florica, wants to take me home with her but she has to talk to the manager today. Who is mother Florica? She’s one of our mothers, our nurse. We have several mothers not just one. I love them equally, I don’t make any difference between them. Their names are Ioana, Doinita, Florica, and then there’s Ioana Radu and Monica and Tudora Mioara Ruse, and wait I have more…
Rep: "And how do you manage with all these mothers?
Marcel: "I manage…I give them cards on Christmas and even on Mother’s Day that I make myself…
The foster home in Vidra village has quite a few mothers and even more children. The youngest is 11 and the oldest is 17. Dr. Angelica Paun will tell us how the children came here: "These are children who were born between 1988-1989 with physical problems and needed blood transfusions right away. At that time, blood was not tested in our country. We did not have single- use syringes at that time, so we used the classic ones and the sterilization was probably faulty because there were numerous power cuts during Ceausescu’s time so the infestation was obviously related to medical reasons. The children who come to us are usually children coming from various foster homes in Bucharest but we have also received children from all over the country. We have set up an educational programme: children have a kindergarten and a school. We now have 94 children. All these children are at various stages of illness, this is not an HIV infection, but the actual AIDS disease, at various stages of evolution: with chronic hepatitis, tuberculosis, or low immunity."
To see those endearing small ones you can’t imagine they too are victims of the terrible disease. They are visibly sick, but most of them are so small they don’t even know what to call that "sickness". From time to time one of them is taken away from the others, behind a partition where a "mother" will take permanent care of him or her. In a quiet corner, an oxygen mask will help the small one breathe for some more time, a short while though. And then he or she will just disappear, nobody knows where. If the "mothers" at the centre never talk about that, the kids will certainly think of it a lot. Dr Paun remembers each and every one of them: "The one we lost this year was particularly clever, shall I say bright. We suffered a lot. When he was brought here from Hunedoara, he was just like a little pumpkin. By the end of it, his situation had become so critical he could hardly stand. And yet he knew what was going on…when he saw we wanted to separate him from the others, he started crying. He was barely 12…These children are perfectly aware that he died, they know they have to go one by one, disappear somehow, but they don’t know the meaning of death. Some of them realize they suffer from some kind of disease, but they can’t know what is actually happening to them , nor that the disease can be done nothing about. And we can’t be said to make special efforts to tell them the truth either. You can never know, their evolution is pretty good, maybe somebody comes up with a cure, maybe they do have a chance."
The literature says that after the disease has taken off, life expectancy ranges anywhere from 2 to 4 years. Following an anti-retroviral treatment and a diet rich in proteins, fruit and vitamins, the survival rate of children at Vidra centre has increased. While some 10 to 12 children died at the centre every year in the early 90’s, in 2002 only one child was lost. Dr Paun tells more about the miraculous turn of the situation: "The anti-retrovirals, specific to this disease, reach us through the AIDS programme of the Health Ministry, through the national Insurance Fund. The rest of the needed medicines are bought from the drugstore in the commune and are paid for by Child Protection. The food is also paid by Child Protection and some NGOs that help us with extra aid chiefly brought by the Trust of Princess Margaret of Romania. They are taken good care of here; they receive medical visits before leaving for school, and we keep very strict records of their condition. Our staff are very careful indeed, and caring because you never know how much longer they will live."
The children at Vidra live every day of their life fighting an unconscious battle with death. They complete two years of school in one. They write to Santa Claus well in advance to make sure Santa will not come with their favorite toy too late. For the rest, they are like "normal" children in each and every respect. They fight and make up, and would not stop at any prank or shenanigan. They play football and break down windows, and decorate their ceilings with clipped paper stars. Except their friends are Italian, Irish, French, kings, ministers, doctors, presidents, PR directors, journalists, cameramen, football players. They have 5 mothers and if asked, they will most probably tell you they are brothers. Which they are actually, tied up by a bond you might call a brotherhood of blood.
(jan 2003)
I wish to thank the Trust of Princess Margaret of Romania for their help.
Even if the sound of Christmas carols has died out I think it is time I told you about the great moment marking the birth of Jesus Christ from a somewhat different perspective.
They put up a big Christmas tree in the hallway, and decorated it in great style. It has ornaments and a lighting installation that plays "Jingle Bells" in five different tones. The children also decorated their rooms the best way they could. The most beautiful room belongs to the youngest girls: they have drawn toys and Christmas trees and set up an exhibition on the windows. They have cut out stars from corrugated paper and glued them to the ceiling. They lined up several flower pots on the window sill and adorned them with tinsel and ribbons from old flower bouquets. The boys’ rooms are also in good order but they don’t have a starry ceiling. Some of the children are endlessly playing with remote-control cars. They will soon start a hell of a race. It’s three days before Christmas but for these children Santa has come every morning since mid-December.
17 year-old George, the eldest of the children is now guarding the door of the protocol room. His mission is to keep things quiet while I talk to Marcel who strikes the note for carol singing and leads the fashion too. The Christmas celebration dedicated to Santa sent by various Foundations is over. Marcel tells me a few things about the their performance: "We danced, we told stories, we sang, we played the one -act play about the birth of Jesus…I was a magi, Gaspar…We had to go to Mary and Joseph, bring gifts and find out where their child was born. He was born in Bethlehem. Santa came right after the show. He was dressed in red and had a big bag on his back…we all stood in line and he gave us presents. I got this watch, a tetris game, a walk-man, a remote-control car - that was what I wanted him to bring me. He also brought us clothes, jeans, sportswear, underwear and lots of sweets. We must have tricked Santa because he comes here every day and the children still don’t have enough of him and the presents…"
In the Vidra foster home, a village located near Bucharest, there are 94 children. Only some of them will go home for Christmas. Most of them have nowhere to go to, although their parents are alive, helpless witnesses to the passing of time. Marcel will stay in the foster home on Christmas: "I have nowhere to go to. One of our mothers here, mother Florica, wants to take me home with her but she has to talk to the manager today. Who is mother Florica? She’s one of our mothers, our nurse. We have several mothers not just one. I love them equally, I don’t make any difference between them. Their names are Ioana, Doinita, Florica, and then there’s Ioana Radu and Monica and Tudora Mioara Ruse, and wait I have more…
Rep: "And how do you manage with all these mothers?
Marcel: "I manage…I give them cards on Christmas and even on Mother’s Day that I make myself…
The foster home in Vidra village has quite a few mothers and even more children. The youngest is 11 and the oldest is 17. Dr. Angelica Paun will tell us how the children came here: "These are children who were born between 1988-1989 with physical problems and needed blood transfusions right away. At that time, blood was not tested in our country. We did not have single- use syringes at that time, so we used the classic ones and the sterilization was probably faulty because there were numerous power cuts during Ceausescu’s time so the infestation was obviously related to medical reasons. The children who come to us are usually children coming from various foster homes in Bucharest but we have also received children from all over the country. We have set up an educational programme: children have a kindergarten and a school. We now have 94 children. All these children are at various stages of illness, this is not an HIV infection, but the actual AIDS disease, at various stages of evolution: with chronic hepatitis, tuberculosis, or low immunity."
To see those endearing small ones you can’t imagine they too are victims of the terrible disease. They are visibly sick, but most of them are so small they don’t even know what to call that "sickness". From time to time one of them is taken away from the others, behind a partition where a "mother" will take permanent care of him or her. In a quiet corner, an oxygen mask will help the small one breathe for some more time, a short while though. And then he or she will just disappear, nobody knows where. If the "mothers" at the centre never talk about that, the kids will certainly think of it a lot. Dr Paun remembers each and every one of them: "The one we lost this year was particularly clever, shall I say bright. We suffered a lot. When he was brought here from Hunedoara, he was just like a little pumpkin. By the end of it, his situation had become so critical he could hardly stand. And yet he knew what was going on…when he saw we wanted to separate him from the others, he started crying. He was barely 12…These children are perfectly aware that he died, they know they have to go one by one, disappear somehow, but they don’t know the meaning of death. Some of them realize they suffer from some kind of disease, but they can’t know what is actually happening to them , nor that the disease can be done nothing about. And we can’t be said to make special efforts to tell them the truth either. You can never know, their evolution is pretty good, maybe somebody comes up with a cure, maybe they do have a chance."
The literature says that after the disease has taken off, life expectancy ranges anywhere from 2 to 4 years. Following an anti-retroviral treatment and a diet rich in proteins, fruit and vitamins, the survival rate of children at Vidra centre has increased. While some 10 to 12 children died at the centre every year in the early 90’s, in 2002 only one child was lost. Dr Paun tells more about the miraculous turn of the situation: "The anti-retrovirals, specific to this disease, reach us through the AIDS programme of the Health Ministry, through the national Insurance Fund. The rest of the needed medicines are bought from the drugstore in the commune and are paid for by Child Protection. The food is also paid by Child Protection and some NGOs that help us with extra aid chiefly brought by the Trust of Princess Margaret of Romania. They are taken good care of here; they receive medical visits before leaving for school, and we keep very strict records of their condition. Our staff are very careful indeed, and caring because you never know how much longer they will live."
The children at Vidra live every day of their life fighting an unconscious battle with death. They complete two years of school in one. They write to Santa Claus well in advance to make sure Santa will not come with their favorite toy too late. For the rest, they are like "normal" children in each and every respect. They fight and make up, and would not stop at any prank or shenanigan. They play football and break down windows, and decorate their ceilings with clipped paper stars. Except their friends are Italian, Irish, French, kings, ministers, doctors, presidents, PR directors, journalists, cameramen, football players. They have 5 mothers and if asked, they will most probably tell you they are brothers. Which they are actually, tied up by a bond you might call a brotherhood of blood.
(jan 2003)
I wish to thank the Trust of Princess Margaret of Romania for their help.
posted by Andreea Demirgian at
3:58 AM
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