Last week I spent the day at an orphanage in the town of Ungheni. I enjoyed talking with the kids, playing soccer and singing worship songs. But it is incredibly sad to be reminded of what I see as the essential breakdown of the Moldovan family: immigration. So many of the kids I talked to at the orphanage have parents, they are just abroad working, with promises to one day come and rescue their children. I hear stories and meet young people all the time who are simply left, because mom or dad got a job as a house cleaner, a waitress, a dancer or an apple picker. And these kids are waiting for the return of their parents. Some are trying to keep their apartments, care for younger siblings, and go to school as normal. Others have been placed with friends, relatives, neighbors or in orphanages. The sad thing, with as many stories as I hear about children being abandoned, I rarely hear stories of parents coming back, fortunes in hand, to whisk their children away to the wonderful promises of the West.
