“Who will be my buddy?”

These are the first words I heard Peter speak (in Mandarin).

It was Day 1 of the Bring Me Hope summer camp for orphans, and Peter was waiting with eager anticipation as he watched the campers get matched up with their buddies. As an exhausted staff member, I had previously decided to not have a buddy that week.

Plans changed.

With one look at this little boy, I knew we were supposed to spend the week together. I walked across the room and grabbed Peter’s hand, announcing I was his buddy. The smile that erupted on his face is etched in my memory forever. During that first day, Peter and I bonded more quickly than any other child I had every been matched with–evidenced during Day 2’s water gun fights. For over an hour, Peter positioned himself between me and the others shouting, “You can’t shoot her! If you shoot her I will get you!” I laughed as I watched him race around, trying to protect me by shooting all the other kids with water.

As the week progressed, my laughter turned into sorrow as I saw this precious boy yearning for love. If I spent one moment with another child, Peter would become jealous. He thought he had to work harder to earn my love. He served me food, filled my cup with water, gave me his toys, stole candy from other children to give to me, and even wrote me notes and drew pictures. The pictures always told the same story. He carefully colored a strong prince and one princess. When he gave it to me he said I was the princess, and he was the hero.

Even though he had a soft heart, Peter was strong. He tried to hide the fact that he wore a diaper because of being born with a myelomeningocele (spina bifida), disappearing for short times to change himself. When he returned, he pretended like nothing happened. I watched all of this and decided that Peter was my strong hero.

Friday came; time to say goodbye. I had been dreading this moment all week and wasn’t sure how Peter would respond. Hist strength faltering, he held my hand tightly as we walked to the car door. Before he got in, a small tear fell down his cheek. The first tear I had seen all week. Hesitating for just a moment, Peter turned around and hugged me tightly. As I wrapped my arms around him, a personal responsibility for him grew in my heart. He may be leaving, but I was his advocate.

The car pulled out of the driveway. As tears streamed down my face, it began to pour rain. I looked heavenward and asked the Lord, “Why is he alone? Why doesn’t he have a family?” The reply? “Becca, you can speak loudly on his behalf.”

And so I am. Would you consider bringing this little boy, my little brother, into your family?

His words are still in my heart: “You’re going to find me a family, aren’t you Becca?” desperately loving me to his best ability during the week when God redefined love for me.

This little hero (b. 9/18/2001) is currently on the shared list waiting for his family to find him. A family can use any agency to bring him home.

Hey everyone, my name is Becca Bolt and I live in California. Since my parents adopted in 2003 and in 2005, my heart has grown into a crazy love for the vulnerable. They need voices to speak up on their behalf, and I knew I could be a voice. I am still a student at San Diego Christian College and will graduate in a few months. Wherever the Lord leads me (which is looking like China), I know I will be loving the helpless, for that is where His heart is.”