THERE ARE well over 1,500 children in approximately 23 care centres and orphanages in Guyana, and at this time of year, the atmosphere at these residences is one tinged with hope: Hope for a smile; hope for a memory to last them through the new year; and for many, hope for an absolution they more often than not would never see. While some of the children in these Homes are orphans, others are not, and have families who are unable to care for them so they end up in the State’s custody.
However, as the Guyana Chronicle found out, these children do not wish for much. Like regular children, the most common wish is for toys, clothes and books, and the odd technological gadget.
But, underlying it all is the need for something more; something less material; the most basic need everyone has: The need to be loved and feel wanted in a place where they truly belong.
Tracy is 13-years-old and generally y a chatterbox, but when asked about the holidays and what it was that made it special for her, she was unusually mum.
“I have something to show you,” she said. “I will go upstairs for it.”
She came back with a piece of paper that was folded twice, very neatly, and handled with care.
“Here,” she said.
Undoing the folds, mimicking her care, found that the precious piece of paper turned out to be a letter with precise words.
“I write it last night; you can only read it, but you cannot keep it,” Tracy said.
Her scribbles (grammatical errors and all) read:

Dear:
How are you. As for me I am fine I am writing this letter to tell you merry chirstmas to my mom.
I want you today.
Good night mother and my father. Sister I love you. Mom and my sister I want to see you
today.
I like all of my family. I only have a best friend in school. I like all of my family and my
friend and my teacher. I love my school work.
I wish to see you today.
I miss my brouther and my sister my unber (meaning foster) father and unber mother.
I want to see you. You don’t come to see me at school.
Good night,
Mother and my father
brouther, sister
unber mother unber father.

At the same Centre is Carl, a reserved 14-year-old who has a preference for books rather than all the fuss.
One thing he insists on is seeing his father.
Once the child’s family is around and they want to go home for the holidays, their relatives are free to go to the Ministry of Human Services and Social Security and put in their request. Arrangements are then made for the child to spend the day with their respective families.
Carl is very much interested in this little arrangement. Said he: “I don’t like parties; I prefer it to be quiet so I can read. I been here two years now, and this year, I want to go home with my family.”
Said his peer, Leon, who is 16: “Christmas is everything; is family getting together and show love.”
Leon is something of an artist, and the social workers at the Centre he stays at are very proud of his work. He wants a laptop for Christmas so he can dabble with a different kind of art, using computer graphics.
“When I am angry, I draw,” he said, “but I like it, and sometimes I give people my drawing as a gift. I give my teacher one already.”
Twelve-year-old Sanny is the eldest of six girls. Her mother died, and her father cannot care for the girls, so the others are with relatives, and Sanny is in State custody.
One of the newer additions to the Centre, this darling of a girl is a bit withdrawn, and, understandably, very said.
She is being encouraged by the Centre’s staff to talk about her problems, and is being assured that things will be okay soon.
In such a state, Sanny could not pinpoint anything that she liked about the holidays, but said that things were very good before her mother died.
When asked what she wanted for the holidays, the child said just clothing.
For many like Sanny, this time of year is especially difficult, and while the social workers will try, more often than not it is a blue Christmas for them.
Eighteen-year-old Jennel, who said she too is hoping to go home to her foster parents, explained that while she did not live with them for long, she would still like to go to something familiar for the holidays.
Jennel, who is a Christian, says she draws her inner strength from her religion. “If you have someone to trust in, something to hold on to, everything will be ok,” she said.
At another Home, we found that most of the children have been there for over a year and so are a bit more comfortable with their situation.
Still, there are moments when things are not so easy, but some are lucky.
Eleven-year-old Ravina, nine-year-old Ryan, and eight-year-old Robin are siblings and have each other for company.
Ravina is very much aware that Christmas represents the birth of Jesus, but to her, it’s also about love.
“I got my brothers with me, and we are together for Christmas,” she said.
Ryan smiles his wicked smile and admits that he is sometimes a troublemaker.
“I don’t fight with her all the time… She get me vex when she coming and hug me when yuh deh in yuh game,” he said.
Ravina laughs, and Robin, adding his bit, said: “Christmas is to be with people who love us.”
Another youngster, 12-year-old Randy, has been at that particular Home with his sister for over two years.
Said he: “I don’t want anything for Christmas, really; I got my sister.”
Randy explained that for him, Christmas is about giving, sharing and spreading love to other people.
At an orphanage for boys, we met 14-year-old Asif, who maintains that the “most important” thing about the Christmas holidays is hope. With good reason: He hopes to be adopted soon.
“It’s about fun and joy,” the aspiring pharmacist said.
Most of the younger boys at the orphanage – being boys, of course – agree that Christmastime means lots of food and fun and toys, and feeling special.
Eight-year-old Lenard said simply: “It is a good holiday.”
People in today’s world are so caught up with work or whatever it is that constitutes their lives, that they often lose sight of what it is that really matters.
A loved one dies, and it is then that you realise how much they meant to you, but it is too late; an accident happens, and you are careful for a day, then you return to your old ways; or you go through life with a ‘don’t care’ attitude when you have the potential to make a difference and only realise what was lost when the opportunity has been missed. 
These children, the 1,500 plus in State custody, force us to change our perspective, force the rest of us to really look at life’s realities and how frivolous most things we chase after are.
These children do all of this, by simply resolving their wish lists with one simple line: “I wish I was as fortunate, as fortunate as some.”