Editor’s Note: This is the latest blog installment from CBM-US CEO Ron Nabors recounting his travels to CBM-funded projects in Africa. Here he shares highlights from visiting students at a primary school for deaf children.

One of the children I met in Tanzania, a little girl named Hawa, will be 21 years old when she finishes the sixth grade.

Hawa was born unable to hear and her parents did not know where to take the small girl whose large eyes take in the world around her. By the time she enrolled in a CBM-supported school near her home, Hawa was 10 and did not know how to communicate with others beyond some rudimentary signs.

During my visit to a primary school, I met the child and knelt down, asking her about her plans for the future.

After our guide translated my question, enormous tears welled up in Hawa’s brown eyes, dripping off her eyelashes and dribbling off her chin. As the tears streamed down and collected in a puddle, she struggled to respond to my question and I became concerned I had said something terribly wrong.

When she finally was able to sign, “I did not know that I had a future,” I thought my own heart would break.

How many other bright children like Hawa are living in the poorest countries of the world and being denied access to education because of their disability? While many children would grow discouraged that it takes three additional years to finish primary school because of their disability, Hawa is so incredibly grateful for the opportunity to learn.

At the same school, CBM offers skills training for adults to improve their standard of living. Most adults coping with a disability did not have the wonderful opportunity to attend school to gain skills that help them become self-supporting. In fact, just 3 percent of adults and children with a disability living in a developing country have access to education or training programs.

Hawa is a lucky girl because she is able to walk to school each day and learn. Because of our donors, she has joined the select 3 percent.

When I think back over my visit to the school and time spent with the hearing impaired students, I can still see the wonderful little girl with large eyes, a bright mind and an even brighter future. I can only imagine all that she will accomplish.

Holland Webb, Director of International Programs, cbm-us

Top Row (L-R) Holland Webb cbm-us. Reginald Paul, National Prevention of Blindness Committee, Haiti. Peter Hansen, Director of Photography, U.S. Bottom Row: (L-R) Alison Hawhee, cbm-us. Dr. Marlyse Dominique, Opthalmologist- Haiti, Dr. Guerline Roney, Opthalmologist- Haiti.

Alison Hawhee, cbm-us and Holland Webb, cbm-us

It was my fifth trip to Haiti, and I was not looking forward to it.

After three years of working to secure funding for the project, provide extensive donor reports, and help manage the creation and launch of the first sustainable, social-service eye care facility in northern Haiti, I was finished with this task.

Haiti is a difficult place to work. Systemic poverty and destabilized politics have bred a country that, while possessing beautiful coastline, pleasant weather, and potentially delightful countryside, is now defined by violence, pollution, disease, and hunger.

Churches and governments have poured untold amounts of aid money into Haiti with mixed results. Over the years, I have often wanted to walk away from this project, feeling that the barriers to its success were too high to scale.

But I have to say: I’m glad we stuck it out.

This trip changed my perspective, and rather than barriers, I saw miracles.

Instead of sitting through more difficult administrative meetings in four languages, this time, I was going to produce a documentary. Our subject was the practical lessons we learned to make a community eye care project successful when everything (and I do mean everything) is against you.

This time, I met our clients and saw the ophthalmologist at work. I got to meet the pastor who promotes our work in his rural community and allows us to use his church for our consultations.

I met Macula, an older lady who told me that before her surgery, people cheated her at her tiny store by giving her small bills and then asking for change. Now, that she can see, she was able to put a stop to that.

I met the program’s driver. He had turned up in the operating room one day quite unexpectedly, demanding to know what went on in there. He wanted to know what he was bringing people to do. He has now been trained to do visual acuity checks as well and is one of the most enthusiastic staff members.

I met Nurse Felix, the head nurse, who kept saying about our program’s effects -- “Everything has changed. Everything has changed.”

Against all odds and sometimes without even receiving their regular paychecks, the program’s leaders and staff have persevered and carved out a good place where they make clear vision and good health a possibility for many of the poorest people of northern Haiti.

For the first time, I really saw miracles of hope happening in that place of poverty.

I am transferring to a new position this month, so it’s my last trip to Haiti. And I’m glad it was the best.

You should go, too. It just might give you a change in perspective as well. And who knows? You might even get to see a miracle.

A few weeks ago, a door opened into a different world as I stepped outside the airport in Tanzania.

Up until that point, I had been shuffling between gates in various airports, grabbing sleep and coffee whenever possible.

But when I stepped out of the airport, I was overwhelmed by the sheer crushing humanity shuffling through the streets of Dar es Salaam. Thousands of people, many dressed in very little, are trudging through dirty, littered roads choked with others. Occasionally, you would see a blind man or woman sitting with a beggar's cup or a child with clubfoot on the side of the road. Otherwise, this massive crowd of people loaded down with few possessions just continued to move with no apparent destination and an uncertain purpose.

I came to Dar es Salaam to see firsthand the work being done on behalf of the blind men and women and children with clubfoot left sitting on the side of that dirt road. I came to experience the miracles being performed at one of CBM's flagship projects which offers comprehensive services for everything from surgery to community training and rehabilitation.

But I think it's important to describe the environment where this wonderful work is happening, because it makes the stories and the successes even more powerful.

Seeing a child with cleft lip having their face repaired, the gratitude in his parents' eyes and touch, meeting a young woman who had endured shame and humiliation because of obstetric fistula, spending time with a master wood craftsman who has learned to read Braille and a skill that support his family these are just a few of the snapshots that live in my heart and that came back with me from Tanzania.

Their stories and the impression they left upon me are bigger than any suitcase could ever hold. To do them justice, I will be sharing their remarkable stories with you in the coming months. Each of them represents a miracle--made possible by your donations to CBM, the loving and constant hands of our co-workers and a continuous stream of faith and hope.

Things looked rather bleak when those airport doors opened into the streets of Dar es Salaam into the overwhelming and crushing poverty and conditions. A week later, when I went back to the airport for my return to the United States, my heart was filled with joy and gratitude that despite the physical environment and its conditions, the work being done is transforming lives each day.

Isaiah was rescued from death, adopted into a loving family, and given a miracle of sight from CBM.

As a tiny infant, Isaiah was thrown away and left to die.

Sadly, it happens— more often than we can imagine—in impoverished countries where CBM works. One more mouth to feed may seem impossible in a poor family where the children go to bed hurting from hunger night after night.

Perhaps out of desperation, Isaiah was dumped into a latrine pit, a hole used as a toilet.

But Isaiah’s tiny cries were heard by someone who pulled him out of the pit. The baby was taken to a shelter, and soon afterward he was adopted by an American couple living in Nairobi.

When Isaiah was a year old his mother noticed, in flash photographs, a yellowish glow in the little boy’s eye. She mentioned it to her doctor, who recommended taking Isaiah to CBM’s eye hospital in Kikuyu.

Eye surgeon Dr. Dan Gradin examined the boy and recognized a serious eye disease that, if not treated, would progress to complete blindness. Dr. Gradin took photos of the inside of Isaiah’s eye and sent the photos to retina specialists in the U.S., who confirmed the diagnosis of Coats’ Disease.

Coats’ Disease is a rare, progressive ailment in which leaking blood vessels cause retina detachment and total
blindness.

But Isaiah’s condition was discovered early enough that laser surgery performed by Dr. Gradin sealed off the leaking blood vessels and stopped the disease’s progression. Isaiah’s eyesight was saved!

Dr. Dan Gradin specializes in treating rare eye diseases in children. During his years in Africa, he has performed more than 11,000 eye surgeries on children and adults. But Isaiah’s story is particularly special to this veteran surgeon.

Dr. Dan Gradin, the CBM ophthalmologist who treated Isaiah, is pictured with his family outside their home in Kikuyu. Dan and his wife Sally have five children, pictured clockwise from top left: Carrie, Brian, Amy, Alex and Grace.

“Isaiah was fortunate his condition was diagnosed early,” said Dr. Gradin. “Who knows? If he had not been abandoned and then adopted, maybe this rare condition could not have been discovered and he would have lost his vision.

"Isaiah’s story reminds me of God’s incredible mercy,” said Dr. Gradin. “His start in life could not have been more traumatic or desperate, but through God’s grace, we have seen miracles happen in this child’s life.

“We are grateful we had a chance to help this miraculous little boy."

After any holiday, it seems like there’s a bit of a let-down. Maybe things didn’t quite go as planned, the dinner was charred, the gift you received wasn’t what you expected or even wanted.

Valentine’s Day is no exception. The build-up begins right after Christmas and there’s a lot of retail pressure—particularly for men. Jewelers spend 90 percent of their advertising budgets between Christmas and Valentine’s Day, blanketing television ads showing that the perfect gift comes in a small velvet box.

I want to share a story about a friend who loves jewelry as much as the next gal, but will tell you the best gift she has received most assuredly did NOT come in a small velvet box.

She and her husband have a heart for CBM and for other charities that exist to help vulnerable people. They are now at an age and stage where they have the material things they need, but want to enjoy their ability to donate money to causes. The family has set up a charitable trust so they can enjoy giving to organizations like CBM.

For my friend’s Christmas present, her husband donated money into their new trust.

When she told me about this, her eyes flashed with emotion, and she said, “It was the best gift I’ve ever received. I was able to sit down and write checks to non-profit organizations to help advance their work. I haven’t ever enjoyed a present so much.”

My friend has asked that I don’t share her identity, but I want to thank her and our other faithful donors who give to CBM and support our mission. We can’t do this amazing work without your giving hearts, and a love that isn’t bound by any season.

Ron Nabors
CEO, CBM-US

The Haitians have a saying: Beyond Mountains there are Mountains.  It was made popular in the bestselling book Mountains Beyond Mountains, which detailed the quest and challenges to bring healthcare to Haiti.

Its meaning is simple.  No matter what obstacles you overcome in Haiti, even bigger obstacles lie ahead.  Through my three-year involvement with CBM’s largest eye care project in Haiti, I can attest to that truth.

From the beginning, we faced stiff challenges.  But last week, I caught a glimpse of the final mountain range.

As you may know, Haiti is the poorest country in the western hemisphere. Devastated by deforestation and the subsequent erosion of fertile topsoil, geographic isolation, brutal and corrupt governments, and a series of natural disasters, the nation is severely impoverished and now a target for many well-intentioned but poorly managed human service programs that may be doing more harm than good.

CBM, as a professional organization, saw the opportunity to help reverse Haiti’s poverty by reaching out to those with visual disabilities.

Eye care has been concentrated in only two cities and the poorest populations in outlying areas have almost no access to those cities because the roads are subject to frequent attacks by bandits. CBM opened up a new clinic in the northern city of Cap Haitien.  With support from American donors and the use of a facility provided by the Haitian government hospital, we began work in 2007.

Everything was against us. Patients in outlying villages were afraid of surgeries and many who needed our services refused to come to the hospital. Other came, but left in fear when they were told they needed a 15-minute cataract surgery instead of glasses.  The first year in a place of desperate need, we conducted a mere 40 surgeries.

At the end of 2007, I remember meeting with ophthalmologist Guerline Roney, a remarkable and dedicated woman. Dr. Roney has made personal sacrifices to keep the clinic going—sometimes working for months without pay and living with her parents to trim her expenses. I feared she would quit, and then the medical outreach there would stop.

CBM was paying her salary and provided excellent eye equipment, but it sat mostly unused.  We suggested that our successful eye care program in Mexico might help her learn new strategies to convince patients to receive the cataract operations, and Dr. Roney agreed to try.

Building on what she had already learned from her patients, Dr. Roney shadowed the team in Mexico and began to strategize how she might grow her own clinic.

I’m pleased to say that in 2008, Dr. Roney performed 400 surgeries … or 10 times the number of the previous year. Currently, she operates the third largest eye care facility in the whole country.

When I recently returned from this year’s meeting in Haiti, I was pleased to be there as the Haitian Minister of Health and Director General of Health recognized Dr. Roney’s clinic as a model of innovation and success in social service ophthalmology. Currently, CBM is helping her develop a video about the clinic so others can learn from her success and the challenges she faced.

As the Haitians know, sometimes when we face mountains, we go on to encounter additional mountains. And then there are times like these when, after an arduous and rugged crossing, we come across a peaceful valley where we can reflect and enjoy the fruits of a worthwhile and productive effort.

Holland Webb is Director of International Programs for CBM-US.

As he has pointed out, it’s unlikely his parents would have ever imagined that Barack Hussein Obama would ever become president of the United States.

But that’s what makes today’s inauguration of the 44th president of our country so special. It proves—without a shadow of a doubt—that anything is possible in America.

A young man from humble beginnings rises to one of the most powerful positions in the world. A combination of intelligence, talent, hard work and charisma propel him to this spot rather than connections, past allegiances or politics as usual.

I can’t help but compare today’s peaceful transition of power to the extreme violence and upheaval that Kenya faced last year at this time due to a contested political election which left thousands dead and millions homeless. The country is still struggling to recover. As many of you know, Obama’s father was from Kenya, and while he is no longer living, Obama’s grandmother still lives in a small village outside Nyang-oma Kogelo, which is close to the provincial capital of Kisumu.

CBM has many projects in Kenya and a strong presence within the entire African continent. Our donors and supporters recognize that need and have supported efforts to fund eye hospitals, rehabilitation centers and schools for Kenyan children who are blind and deaf.

Ravaged by HIV/AIDS, poverty, lack of clean drinking water and sanitation, being born on the African continent means you are at an extremely high risk of developing a debilitating disability.

And yet from these humble beginnings come the DNA of ½ of our nation’s newest President—a shining example of how anything here in America is possible, and why the rest of the world looks to us for hope.

Links to past blogs on Kenyan Civil Unrest:

• Peace!
• Rough Progress
• Quieter
• Roller Coaster of Extremes
• Brief Update
• Taking one day at a time
• CBM and the Kenyan Red Cross
• CBM helps Maina Kimani

I want to share some amazing news!

During the fall of 2008, you and other CBM supporters personally changed the lives of 17,081 people. It’s hard to believe that a miracle—such as restoring someone’s vision with a gift of $45—is even possible.

But for each gift CBM received toward our “Miracles of Sight” campaign, we were able to do just that—perform a miracle of a cataract surgery, combat river blindness with MECTIZAN™ or even make eyeglasses for a child unable to read her text books.

Many of the people touched by our “Miracles of Sight” campaign had lost hope that they would ever be able to see again. And you restored that hope with your gift.

Donations came from across the country. We received sacrificial gifts from families and individuals who had already generously supported our ministry and had to stretch to make another gift as well as donors who gave multiple miracles because they wanted to impact a family or an entire community.

Going into our campaign we set an ambitious goal of 25,000 miracles and we didn’t quite get there.

As all of us have felt the impact of our nation’s economic struggles, with job losses and stock market losses creating fear and confusion over our own financial futures. As we planned our campaign, some people even questioned the timing of going forward with an ambitious fund-raising goal given those circumstances.

Julie Roe (right) on her trip to Ecuador with Holland Webb, Director of International Programs

But when you travel to a developing country and see the conditions that people are living in, or you meet a grandmother like Amelia Flores who had become homebound because cataracts had stolen her vision, you realize that these people cannot wait.

If we turn our backs on them, there is no one else there to help them. And so we are so grateful that we reached almost 70 percent of our Miracles goal.

Each and every single contribution is appreciated, and celebrated.

I recently read a report from the field about a medical outreach mission to the South Sudan region of Africa that underscored the importance of CBM’s Miracles campaign.

When the CBM team flew into the dirt airstrip in the middle of town, they were greeted by rows of tents. Inside they found hundreds of desperate people who had walked for days and camped there—just waiting with the hope they would be able to see an eye doctor. Or even better yet—the miracle of being able to see again.

The physician in charge of the mission realized he had two choices: approach the crowds with Christ-like compassion as Jesus did in the Book of Matthew or turn around and give up at the overwhelming and seemingly impossible task facing the team.

Local police helped restore order so that the medical team could work, and at the end of 12 round-the-clock days, there were 335 operations performed and 742 people were examined. Unfortunately, supplies ran out before another 200 people who needed cataract operations could be helped. However, another trip is planned in April to go back to the region and continue the work started there.

Through your stewardship and generosity, we are able to continue God’s work in South Sudan and so many other places around the world. From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank you for your ongoing prayers, your faithful gifts and your support of CBM.

Julie Roe, Director of Development for CBM-US, lives in Nashville, Tennessee, and loves spending time meeting and getting to know CBM’s supporters and helping them find ways to fulfill their own philanthropic miracles.

It’s been almost two years since my life changed dramatically and I came to work at CBM. Sometimes it seems as if there aren’t enough hours in the day to accomplish everything that needs to happen, and that part of any job can be a source of frustration.

However, there’s something unique to CBM that is able to “fill my spiritual tank” and keep me going for months on end—and that’s traveling to one of the developing countries where we work and talking to the people who benefit from CBM’s mission.

I’ve talked and written many times about how it felt to go to Mombasa, Kenya to meet and talk with Rosemary and her son Michael—a young child with hydrocephalus who would have died without receiving surgical intervention at a CBM project.

Now I’m on my way to find more soul-nourishing stories as I prepare to visit one of CBM’s flagship projects called CCBRT.

CCBRT has it all—a wonderful surgical hospital that specializes in treating everything from cleft lip to club foot, a rehabilitation program that serves as a model for many other projects and programs aimed to prevent disabilities through outreach and education. CCBRT focuses on helping children and adults with disabilities as well as HIV/AIDS orphans.

CBM provides substantial financial support to CCBRT and has a wonderful partnership with the organization located in Tanzania.

I can hardly wait to get there and spend some time listening and learning so that I can share their stories with you. I’ll check back with you in February and see if I can’t “fill your tank” as well.

Ron Nabors
CEO, CBM-US

A few weeks ago, a window in my living room was broken. My first thought—killing my son who put his little rear end through the window causing it to break—turned into an opportunity for a life lesson since his birthday was coming up.

To replace the window, I told the boys we would have to cut back on our spending for the birthday party. Then—I was struck by an idea that would allow John Paul’s birthday to become something much greater than an ordinary 8th birthday celebration.

Here was a chance for our children who are blessed with wonderful lives to reach out to children living in Africa who need something as simple as a Vitamin A capsule to help nurture their vision and prevent blindness. My son agreed that rather than asking the other children to bring a gift, we would enclose a note in the party invitation asking for a small donation to CBM.

On the day of the party, I watched as 2nd and 3rd graders came bearing crumpled dollars of different denominations and a few checks for even more. Quickly, our coffers began filling up with contributions for CBM’s vitamin A program.

While the kids ate cake, we blindfolded everyone and led them around the table with Fulani sticks, so they could experience what it was like to be blind and attempt a simple task like eating. In that moment, they could understand what their gifts were helping do.

Our little party of ten kids raised $90 for vitamin A … enough to reach 160 kids in the developing world with the vitamin A they need to keep their sight. One mother said she was talking to her daughter about doing the same thing for her birthday.

And so from a broken window came an opportunity for me to be really proud of my son. When it came down to a choice of self or self-sacrifice, my son opened a window of opportunity for 160 other children.

Note:

Holland
Webb is Director of International Programs for CBM-US. He is also the proud father of two sons, Geoffrey and John Paul.