Paul Myhill's Blog

Families for China’s Orphans

PROJECT PROFILE:

China has over 20 million orphaned and abandoned children. The country's 'one child' policy and preference for male heirs has resulted in many baby girls being abandoned at birth. Many of these girls are shuffled into institutions that have been set up for orphans and the elderly. Some private orphanages also operate in the country and typically receive handicapped children. Chinese authorities have been somewhat reluctant to assign healthy children to these independent projects.

World Orphans' network partner in China (undisclosed for security reasons) offers a rare exception to the Chinese institutional model and has been granted the right to care for healthy children in apartment homes. Our partner works with house churches to provide mothers for each home, with each mother caring for six children as her own. Almost 60 children are now being raised in these apartments and World Orphans still needs $8,134 per month to provide for their care.

CHINA COUNTRY PROFILE:

Number of Single Orphans* (one parent lost): 18,000,000

Number of Double Orphans* (both parents lost): 560,000

*not including abandoned, sold or trafficked children

Population: 1,338,612,968

Average Annual Income: $860 per person

NETWORK PARTNER:

Undisclosed for security purposes

CONTRIBUTIONS:

To give to this project please view our giving options (link below) and write "CHI-523" in the online memo field or on the memo line of your check:

Giving Options

Making a Difference on the Mekong

PROJECT PROFILE:

Cambodia is notorious for child prostitution and sex trafficking. Once a great kingdom, Cambodia was devastated by the bloody rule of the Khmer Rouge who killed an estimated 1.5 million of its citizens. Left behind were thousands of orphans. These children became easy prey for traffickers who sold them internationally or kept them imprisoned in the brothels of Phnom Penh and Siem Reap, setting in motion a vicious cycle that has been perpetuated to this day. It is estimated that as many as one third of sex workers in Cambodia are children.

Hundreds of thousands of ethnic Vietnamese live on the waterways of Cambodia. Many had fled to Cambodia after the fall of Saigon. Others have been there for generations. Impoverished and ostracized, this Vietnamese population is very vulnerable and their children are especially at risk. Poverty, combined with a thriving child sex industry in Cambodia, has resulted in over seventy percent of Cambodia's Vietnamese girls being sold into slavery.

These are the children that Pastor Thach and his wife serve. This dear couple runs the Rau Muong (water spinach) school perched above the Mekong River near Phnom Penh. The education (and therefore opportunity) received by the children there may be the only thing standing in the way of a life of sexual servitude. Pastor Thach and his wife also provide residential care for four former orphaned and abandoned children who had nowhere else to go except the brothels. World Orphans desires to provide Pastor Thach's church with just $176 per month to help care for these precious children as the initial step towards a greater involvement.

CAMBODIA COUNTRY PROFILE:

Number of Single Orphans* (one parent lost): 660,000

Number of Double Orphans* (both parents lost): 55,000

*not including abandoned, sold or trafficked children

Population: 14,494,293

Average Income: $300 per person

NETWORK PARTNER:

CONTRIBUTIONS:

To give to this project please view our giving options (link below) and write "Lunkon Themi" in the online memo field or on the memo line of your check:

Giving Options

 

 

Innocence Lost

"The chain on the door is to keep the rogues out. Before I put it there, they would break in to steal from us and rape us."

Janet, a thirty two year-old mother, shared this with me matter-of-factly, accepting rape as an inevitable occurrence in the Zulu shanty town we were visiting, an area that police rarely go into. The way in which the information was conveyed was as impacting to me as the information itself. Janet wasn’t crying and crumbling over the fact she has been raped repeatedly. She simply communicated it much like we would communicate going out to the mailbox to pick up our junk solicitations and bills. Just another fact of life, another routine incident.

The rogues are youth and men, often addicted to drugs, who break into the shacks, robbing victims to feed their habits or lust. To be "real men" the witch doctors tell them they must have sex every other day. To get a high, they need funds. Both can be found in poorly-protected tin shanties occupied by widows and orphans. "If they get in, we offer ourselves so that our children aren’t raped," Janet further explained.

There is no surprise that the area we were in was the AIDS and drugs capital of South Africa. Such things go hand in hand. When tied to a tradition of outright male dominance and the cultural requirement for frequent sex, you’re left with a boiling cauldron of abuse and disease. Tin shanties are simply cages that hold prey, incubators that hold diseased victims.

Janet used to have a chair sitting on the flattened dry mud she calls her front porch. After she put the chains on the rusty front door, she discovered that she had to move the chair inside also. The rogues would use it to get up onto her roof, pry back the tin sheets and drop in through the ceiling to rape her. I heard the sounds in my head: the sound of men lumbering up the side of the shack, the sound of heavy footsteps on the tin surface overhead, the sound of crowbars dragging across the thin corrugated barrier, the sound of metal against metal and nails popping, the sound of creaking sheets bending against the will of determined predators. The sound of screaming.

Janet is HIV positive, no doubt infected by one of her attackers or perhaps the husband that left her for another woman. Her 8ft. by 8ft. shack has two decorations – a teddy bear stuffed high into a corner, and the memorial program for her mother’s funeral held by a clothes peg to a metal edge of the shanty siding. A teddy bear and a funeral program. Innocence and loss. Innocence lost.

Today is World AIDS Day. According to an AP report this morning, "South Africa has an estimated 5.5 million people living with the HIV virus — the highest total of any country in the world and more than one-sixth of the global total. About 1,000 South Africans die each day of the disease and complications like tuberculosis. Even more become infected because prevention messages haven't worked."

Please remember the infected and affected world today. Mothers like Janet.

All is Not What it Seems

There is nearly unanimous agreement that China’s opening ceremony for the 2008 Summer Olympic Games was a masterpiece. However, as we’ve learned over the past few days, all is not what it seems.

Stories hit the media earlier this week that part of the fireworks display was faked - a computer-generated animation prepared months ago and fed out by Beijing Olympic Broadcasting, the entity that controls and provides the primary video feeds of all Olympics events to other broadcasters.

Now, today, it has come to light that the precious little girl who sang "Ode to the Motherland" during the opening ceremony was, in fact, lip-synching to another child's voice.

The musical director for the event, Chen Qigang, admitted that, "After several tests, we decided to put Lin Miaoke on the live picture, while using Yang Peiyi's voice. The reason for this is that we must put our country's interest first. The girl appearing on the picture must be flawless in terms of her facial expression and the great feeling she can give to people."

The New York Times reported, "Under pressure from the highest levels of the ruling Communist Party to find the perfect face and voice, the ceremony’s production team concluded the only solution was to use two girls instead of one. Miaoke, a third grader, was judged cute and appealing but "not suitable" as a singer. Another girl, Yang Peiyi, 7, was judged the best singer but not as cute. So when Miaoke opened her mouth to sing, the voice that was actually heard was a recording of Peiyi."

My heart crumbles for little Peiyi who lost her opportunity to sing, in person, for a billion people because the country that devalues girls so much deemed her as not cute enough.

Near the end of the opening ceremony, we saw thousands of pictures of little children held up by the performers. The images were also repeated on the fringe screens that wrap the whole stadium – a plethora of bright, smiling children.

Too bad that China’s one child policy, the desire for perfection, the devaluation of the female child, and the preference for a "lucky" male heir, means that thousands (by some estimates, millions) of children - mainly little girls like Miaoke and Peiyi - are presently languishing in Chinese orphanages.

Look past the façade, folks. I’m a father with a Chinese daughter. I used to work with and in Chinese orphanages. I’ve seen the reality of bleak holding cells filled with the children that the Chinese government now wants you to believe are cherished and valued.

The dying rooms still exist. Abandonment occurs in record numbers as precious little infants and pig-tailed girls are discarded, victims of a system that places very little value on human life.

Hope Restored

On Easter Sunday, we celebrate the new life and hope that is within us. Jesus’ victory becomes ours and, as we interact with the world around us, we are to be carriers, displayers and tellers of the promise that is found only in Him.

I find it very fitting, then, to receive this e-mail today from an orphan caregiver in Thailand concerning children lost – now found – and the process of seeing hope restored; restored through a faithful servant who understands the amazing power of love.

............................................................................................

Dear Paul...

Wow. I just read through a good bit of your blog..."happened" upon it. Wow.

It really touched my heart, my heart that is so bent towards orphans and those abandoned. I work in Thailand at an orphanage for kids with HIV; 70 kids. Most are healthy as they are on the ARV drugs, and you would never guess that they were HIV by looking at them...well, most of them. Some are symptomatic, but all are able to attend school.

It's what you can't see that breaks my heart. The look in their eyes, the odd behavior, the restlessness. The knowledge that they were sent away, pushed away, given away just because they are HIV. This is what they really have to live with every day. And as they are living longer and getting older, it gets harder and harder. They are able to voice themselves with more clarity and express their emotions with more fire. And as a caregiver, it is hard to know how to deal with some things and I am never able to separate the fact that these kids are hurting deep into their soul. They weren't wanted.

I do many things at the orphanage, but the thing I see myself doing most is just loving the kids. Taking them into my arms and giving them mom love, even when they smell so badly of infection or are covered with scabs. I feel like I have to fill in the gaps, to make up for something lacking, to pour out and out and out. My husband and I are even in the process of adopting an HIV positive orphan boy. His name is Bu and he is 5. He is lovely and I can't wait until he lives with us.

On our campus, we also have housing for "abandoned women"....wives and sisters and mothers who have been rejected by their families and left at the hospital, never to be picked up again. Last Sunday, one woman died, leaving behind her 8 year old son for us to care for, for us to mother in her stead. Somehow, it ended up being me that brought the boy, Boonyarit, back to see his dead mother, her body all shrouded and tied up. As we sat next to her, laying on a mat on the floor, I untied her face. She had just turned 31. But she looked 90. And she weighed about 50 lbs. But Boonyarit and I sat there and talked about her and what she was like and how she loved him and how he made her so happy.

I am no grief counselor or any kind of professional, but I am a mommy. And I thought about this, "if that were me and Boon was one of my boys, what would I want said about me?" So we talked about how she is singing with the angels and dancing with Jesus, because she loved Him. We talked about how glad she was that Boon was with us at the Agape Home now. And then I said, "let's kiss her one more time." So we both did and I tied the white sheet around her face again. He waved bye-bye, Paul. And he smiled at her, his eyes as sparkling as his mom's ever were. And I bit my lip and took a deep breath and I said bye-bye, too. We walked out and the men came in to put her in her coffin, which was just there inside the room.

Things die and things are left behind. Dreams die. Mommies die. Hope dies. The will to live dies....but this is not the end of the story. Dreams can come alive again, I can be a mommy. Hope can be restored. And the desire to live life to the fullest can spark again.

God cares about lost things. And He cares about children who have been lost...lost in a political system, lost in the shuffle, lost to someone's memory.

Thank you, Paul, for being a finder.

Ellen C.

Du'aa (part four)

In an important Iraqi city near where Du'aa was publically murdered, and where we received such a warm reception by the provincial Governor and his close aides, twelve teen-aged women are hiding in a secret shelter.

One of the residents, just 16 years old, was forced by her family to marry a much older man. While she was shopping one day, she bumped into a boy she used to have a crush on. Relatives who saw them conversing jumped to the conclusion that the couple had intentionally arranged a rendezvous at the market. The family members immediately abducted the two and drove them to a desolate area. The girl’s nose was viciously cut off and one of the boy’s ears was severed. Fearing that more was to come, the young woman went into hiding.

Another girl at the shelter had been ordered by her father to marry one of his older business colleagues. She flatly refused, as she had recently fallen in love with a boy her own age. Her father, humiliated and infuriated by her opposition, sent her away to live with her grandmother. The young girl would soon learn that her father and brother then murdered her boyfriend. Upon hearing that they were planning to kill her next, she, too, secreted away to an underground life, imprisoned by the ‘honor’ required of families in Northern Iraq.

The further ten stories of these women huddled together in seclusion are very similar, as are those of others concealed in safe houses around the city – terrified girls and young women who, in fear of savage deaths at the hands of their own families, ran away to escape execution. Some had simply fallen in love. Some refused to be mutilated through female circumcision. Others refused to marry men three times their age. A few found themselves pregnant after relationships with men who promised to marry them. And others were raped...an unforgivable defilement that often leads to death.

A good number of the children we will be rescuing in this city will no doubt include the abandoned babies of such women.

As we reach out and take in discarded children from Iraqi hospitals and street corners, we will think of these young girls who live in constant trepidation, especially those who gave up their children in order to breathe the air of another day.

Both choices must have seemed unbearably cruel to these frightened new mothers: Abandon your little baby and survive in secrecy, or keep the child and eventually be exposed and murdered.

...Either way, we are left with an orphan.

Du'aa (part three)

Du'aa’s mother blames Sheikh Sulaiman for allowing the mob to grab and brutally kill her daughter. The video evidence shows that Du’aa was dragged straight from the Sheikh’s house to be stoned to death in the village marketplace.

"He sent her out as a defenseless young girl," Du’aa’s mother asserts.

A London Times interview with the Sheikh reveals his overall condoning of the murder. Although he says on the record that the method of execution was not preferential, his words are no doubt carefully chosen given the widespread exposure the videos have brought to this specific honor killing.

According to the Sheikh, "Honor is a big thing here and each one deals with it differently. It was down to her family to cleanse her shame. Maybe kill her with one bullet, electrocution, any manner, but not through this awful stoning."

He continued, "There is no father who does not love his daughter. When a father kills his daughter to wash away their family shame, it breaks his heart to do so. But fathers are obliged to do this, otherwise they will be ostracized."

Can you believe these words...in this century?

Can you believe that they are being communicated to a major news organization by a man of the cloth, a religious leader?

Can you imagine your pastor saying such a thing?

It is this type of spiritual leadership, set in this type of spiritual climate and culture, that causes such things to happen with shocking regularity in Iraq and across the Middle East.

The London Times article stated that, according to a 2007 mid-year report from the Human Rights Ministry (HRM) in Northern Iraq, "598 women have been burnt, beaten, shot, strangled, thrown from tall buildings, force-fed with lethal drugs, crushed by vehicles, drowned, decapitated or made to kill themselves so far this year, exceeding the 553 recorded for the whole of 2006."

Perhaps some of those methods would have been met by more approval by the Sheikh.

Keep in mind that the statistics above are just for Du’aa’s region alone, Northern Iraq, and for just the murders that were ultimately determined to be honor killings.

Dalia Dzay, the Head of Research Studies at HRM, reportedly told the London Times that, "The perpetrators are simply finding new ways of achieving the same grisly end, for instance by forcing women to set fire to themselves so that their deaths looked like accidents with cooking fuel."

Some sources put the true statistics on honor killings in Northern Iraq as high as three killings per day.

What’s in store for a culture that is driven by ‘honor’ to kill its teenage daughters?

In these areas, the scarlet letters of shame are also applied to the children of unapproved unions, the kids that have been abandoned by their parents to avoid such ‘disgrace.’

These children are waiting to be loved and accepted.

These children are the agents of change that can break down these satanic strongholds of false reputation and honor.

Du'aa (part two)

**WARNING: The following entry contains graphic descriptions and photos that many readers may find highly disturbing.**

Click for Du'aa (part one).

Her name was Du’aa Khalil Aswad. She was a seventeen year-old girl from a middle-class family in Northern Iraq and belonged to the Yazidi sect, a complex mix of Sufi Islam and ancient Persian religions.

The Yazidis and surrounding Sunni Muslims have an intense dislike of each other. They are not permitted to intermarry and often don’t even mix socially. Four months ago, a Sunni Muslim girl eloped with a Yazidi man. She, too, paid the ultimate price. A Muslim lynch mob hunted her down, set fire to the surrounding homes, and beheaded her.

Du’aa’s crime was that she fell in love with a Sunni Muslim boy, nineteen year-old Muhannad Ummayad. It’s a Romeo and Juliet scenario where secrecy and stolen moments defined their relationship. Knowing the condemnation they would receive from their respective communities, they planned to run away together and get married.

One evening, Du’aa took out the trash from the family home and just kept walking towards a new life.

The next morning, the phone ominously rang back at her home. An anonymous caller informed the family that Du’aa was with Muhannad. The caller said that he would kill Du’aa to "wash away her shame," but her father, Khalil, immediately enlisted the police for help in order to save his little girl from certain execution.

The young couple was subsequently found hiding in a grove of olive trees.

"I promise you I am still a virgin," Du’aa told her mother. "I did nothing wrong, Mama."

It probably didn’t matter. The perception and association alone would have been enough to eventually cause a death sentence to be issued.

Du’aa was taken to the home of Sheikh Sulaiman, the senior spiritual leader for their village. There, one of Du’aa’s uncles, along with the head of the tribe, demanded that she be killed to "cleanse the family honor."

Du’aa’s father vehemently protested and suggested that she instead be married to a cousin and exiled to Syria.

"She has committed a wrong for which she will be punished, but not through death," he firmly stated. "I refuse to have my daughter killed."

The uncle, however, as the family elder, said that he alone was the one with the authority to decide Du’aa’s fate.

It’s not clear whether the Sheikh handed Du’aa over to her uncle the next day, or whether the uncle forcibly removed her from the house. Regardless, she was dragged in a stranglehold to the village marketplace like an animal to slaughter. Painful wailing and screams accompanied her as she kicked and struggled for freedom, or to steal just a brief moment to be able explain her actions and attest of her virtue.

But she couldn’t break free of the razor claws upon her. There was no chance to utter voice to her innocence.

Her lot was sealed.

Her lower body was initially stripped to add to her humiliation and to symbolize the disgrace of her choice. She tried to roll and cover her extremities, but one man took the instant to kick her between her legs with such a violent force that one can imagine her pelvic bones shattering upon embedded impact. As the tremors of pain ripped through her frail body, Du’aa writhed and screamed in absolute agony. A similar incident would occur later also, after thirty minutes of savage stoning and kicking.

The killing resembled a sporting event with men whooping, hollering and cheering as the aggressors pummeled this poor girl’s slight body into the hard, unforgiving ground. The coliseum of men was set on only one possible outcome. There was no need for the thumbs up or down by the Emperor. The lions would have their fill this day.

Apparently, it’s shameful that Du’aa fell in love with a boy that was not of her tribe and sect. And it’s shameful for a woman to even show her bare legs in this part of the world. But evidently it’s not shameful to strip her, humiliate her, degrade her and sadistically murder her in full public view.

According to the Yazidi sect, it’s also shameful to even spit on the ground. But it’s seemingly not shameful to see that same ground soak up the hate-spilled blood of a seventeen year-old girl who had simply acted like many impetuous teenagers of her day. And it’s supposedly not shameful that such a thing is done by a girl’s very family - her uncle, brother and cousins – in the name of ‘honor.’

I have already written of the profoundly disturbing spectacle that occurred as this girl was slowly bludgeoned to death with course rocks and polished shoes as part of a ritualistic execution. It needs no further elaboration, other than to tell you that a cousin (maybe even the very one her father wished to marry her to) was the barbarian who ended the family ‘shame’ by bashing her skull with a cinderblock.

After the heinous act, two of her brothers had to dig Du’aa’s body out of a garbage pit in order to bury her in a simple unmarked grave. She was then interred with the bones of a dog in what was supposed to be the final act of humiliation.

But another affront was yet to come.

Du’a’s body was subsequently exhumed so that an autopsy could determine whether she had died as a virgin or not. Presumably, a verdict of defilement would exonerate the killers and give excuse to their actions. Such a finding would give further evidence of the necessity of an honor killing.

To us in the West, it’s inconceivable that a murder victim’s body would be assaulted one more time for such a purpose. It’s implausible that authorities would grant access for such an outcome to be determined.

However, the postmortem inquisition proved to not be the final insult.

Despite accusations to the contrary, Du’aa’s relationship was indeed one of purity.

She had never slept with Muhannad.

The righteous rise
With burning eyes
Of hatred and ill-will
Madmen fed on fear and lies
To beat and burn and kill

Quick to judge
Quick to anger
Slow to understand
Ignorance and prejudice
And fear walk hand in hand

- Excerpted from "Witch Hunt," by Rush

Du'aa (part one)

I simply can’t get her out of my mind.

Perhaps it’s because I’m a father of two daughters, with a third on the way.

Perhaps it’s my acute sense of justice and extreme unease with the many wrongs of this fallen world.

Regardless, she’s stuck in there, haunting my waking moments, assaulting my dreams.

During my global travels, I’ve seen my fair share of physical assaults. Men fist-fighting over unknown infractions in Thailand. Street boys wresting over rotten scraps of food in Uganda. Myself being mugged by knife-wielding thugs in Jamaica.

I’ve also seen the mob-violence mentality in action, most recently as enraged men surrounded a captured thief in Nairobi and beat him viciously with iron bars and the heavy butts of rifles. I’m sure he didn’t make it. There are too many other examples to list, but the commonality is that men were the primary perpetrators...and the primary victims.

I don’t intentionally try to lessen the magnitude of such things in my mind just because both the predators and prey are men. In fact, it all makes my blood boil regardless. But when the scenario is one of a man, or a group of men, bringing harm to a defenseless woman or child, that same blood turns to steam. There’s a whole different realm of righteous anger involved.

...And so when I saw the mobile phone video of the teenage girl being kicked and stoned to death in a macabre scene of testosterone-fueled gore in Iraq, my heart was trampled in a stampede of emotions and my inner outrage swelled to volcanic proportions.

Again, I initially looked at the scene through the lens of a proud father of precious daughters. My first response was one of sheer fright, shock and disbelief. Was this really happening? What if it were Faith or Hannah being mercilessly battered by those rabid cowardly men?

My second response was an overwhelming desire to hunt down all the vile creatures involved and, using Rambo-style tactics, eliminate each one of them from existence this side of eternity, sending them into a blazing inferno far more excruciating and enduring than the agony they inflicted on this poor girl.

These men - wicked men - were intent on destructing a fragile life while also capturing mementos on their camera phones, little blood trophies of their lust for brutality. How could they treat such an intense spectacle of torment as something to memorialize and boast in pixels? How could they be so blasé about the most tempestuous and terrifying moment – the final moment – of this delicate young girl’s life?

Meanwhile, police stood by letting it happen, perhaps even enabling it to happen. In one of the grainy video renditions, the police smile for the camera as the young girl is dragged past them in an ironclad headlock, and as the ensuing blood frenzy occurs just beyond where they stand and keep watch.

Blood was splashing.

Phone cameras were clicking.

Police were smiling.

Upon my return from Iraq, I did the research. I felt compelled to do so. I had to put a name to the face and context to the offending images. I figured that, with so many camera phones capturing the video and stills of this horrific event, there had to be some Internet reporting associated with it.

Sadly, I was right. There’s no less than five different video versions of this stoning that can be dug up on various domestic and international websites. They can be pieced together to show the full continuum of her pain and fear.

And with them, her story is told.

There are some discrepancies to the accounts, something to be expected when different religions, factions and worldviews are involved, each jockeying for shock value, rationale, explanation, or favorable opinion.

But the core facts are not in dispute.

To be continued...

World Orphans Weekly! - Return from Iraq

Dear Friend of the Fatherless,

Scott and I have just returned from a very eventful and productive trip to Iraq. Besides viewing the new World Orphans office there, we had the opportunity to meet with key leaders in government as well as interact with children that have been orphaned and abandoned in the country.

(PIERCING THE DARKNESS: The World Orphans office sign in Iraq)

 

(FOR THE LEAST OF THESE: Paul and Scott with some of the Iraqi children they spent time with)

We invite you to read the posts below to experience some of the journey and its achievements.

Thank you for your heart for the Iraqi churches, people...and orphans.

Nazis? – Obviously we were prepared to perhaps encounter militant Muslims on this trip, but Nazis???

Lost Sheep – A stopover in Jordan reveals a valley steeped in deception and betrayal

All – Sometimes you have to travel halfway around the world to hear additional perspectives on the Great Commission

Second Time Around – Iraq, a country of extremes

Potholes – The truth is often said in jest

Sowing Seeds: Mohammed and Jihad – Namesakes of Islam, receptive to the love of Christ

Kidnappers and Angels – A man avoids what he had once hoped to become

Circle of Tears – Not far from our location, a woman suffered the cruelest demise

Bastards (part one) – A derogatory term here; the shame of children there

Bastards (part two) – Oftentimes, you have to even implore the Church to have the compassion of Jesus

Close Proximity – Bombs to the left of us, bombs to the right. Fifty miles away, but a stark reminder of the dangers of the region

Cold Streets – Snow in Iraq? Street children have to endure harsh climate extremes

Gatekeepers (part one) – Not exactly the scene a typical tourist would encounter

Gatekeepers (part two) – Rolling out the read carpet for World Orphans

Art of Suffering – Blast barriers reveal the pain of the people

Each One a Treasure – The faces of the children

Return – The joys of traveling from a conflict-torn country

Until They All have Homes,

Paul Myhill
President/CEO

World Orphans
1840 Woodmoor Dr., Suite 100
Monument, CO 80132
1-888-ORPHANS
719-487-1700
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All contributions are tax deductible and eternally significant.