OSV STORY FOR MARCH 30

God's children orphaned

For Patrick Atkinson, defender of the orphans in war-torn Guatemala, 'God did not just call me, He gave me my marching orders'

By Patti Maguire Armstrong

Luis Hernandez, the son of a prostitute mother and alcoholic father in Guatemala, began fending for himself in the streets at 5 years old. He slept under park benches and supported himself by shining shoes.

But he had a dream: to one day become a doctor. Today, thanks to the intervention of an American named Patrick Atkinson and his God's Child Project, Central America's largest private foster-care program, Hernandez is a fifth-year medical student.

Hernandez is just one of hundreds of Guatemalan orphans who look upon Atkinson as their adoptive father, because he sacrificed so much to help them when no one else would.

Since establishing The God's Child Project six years ago, Atkinson has served 1,700 of the poorest of the poor children in Guatemala, breaking the bonds of poverty by clothing, feeding and educating orphans who otherwise have no hope.

The God's Child Project is like no other program. Atkinson draws no salary. He relies totally on volunteers and donations and uses local foster homes to house the children.

Last year, a mere 5 percent of his $220,000 operating budget went to administration and fund-raising, while the other 95 percent went directly to helping the kids.

Poised for peace after 36 years of civil war -- Central America's longest internal conflict -- Guatemala is a country of contrast. Containing some of Central America's most modern cities and breathtaking landscapes, it is nevertheless a breeding ground of suffering and deprivation.

It is also the place where Atkinson has come to wage his own war. As the 37-year-old director of The God's Child Project, he comes as a David to fight the Goliath of poverty. And it is a familiar fight, one he tried to walk away from seven years ago.

Back in 1990, Atkinson returned to his hometown of Bismarck, N.D., after working for 10 years with Covenant International Foundation, setting up orphanages and group homes in Guatemala.

Even with a staff of 500 and a budget of $8 million, the work left him exhausted. He sought only to bury memories of Guatemala's civil war, the bodies in the streets, and return home to live the American dream. Law-school applications, a new luxury car and duplex, and marriage plans filled his life.

But God had other plans for him. Atkinson began receiving letters from some of the Guatemalan children he had cared for. It seemed that programs he had helped establish while with Covenant International Foundation had been redefined, leaving 35 orphans once more to fight for survival on the streets.

Somehow, these children got Atkinson's address in North Dakota and begged him to return to Guatemala. "You were like a father to us, and we liked having you here before," they wrote. "But now is when we really need you. If you come back, we promise not to steal from you anymore."

After receiving more than 100 such letters, Atkinson reluctantly returned to Guatemala in 1991, but only to see if the children were really that bad off and if there was another program to get them into. They were, and there wasn't.

Through much prayer, Atkinson became convinced that his place was with these kids.

"God did not just call me," he said, laughing, "He gave me my marching orders." His original plan was simply to get these 35 kids on their feet, but other orphans kept seeking him out for help.

Currently, 500 orphans are enrolled in The God's Child Project, which is based near Guatemala City, the nation's capital. And last November, when 50 spaces opened up, roughly 1,500 children lined up to apply, with only word-of-mouth "advertising."

It pained Atkinson to turn away so many, but every penny of the budget was already stretched to capacity. The 1996 fiscal year left $800 in the bank -- a cushion of $1.60 per child.

Children are placed with their own relatives or in good foster homes and given love, security and education. Rather than send the kids to the streets to scramble for 30 to 40 cents a day, families receive stipends to keep them in school.

Good grades earn further financial rewards, or construction "credits" that can be traded by families for such things as cement floors or new roofs.

When some orphans were too difficult to place in a foster home, rather than lose them to the streets, Atkinson adopted them himself. Thus far, he has adopted 15 children.

While The God's Child Project has enjoyed remarkable success, it has come at great personal sacrifice from Atkinson. Bullets have just missed him, he's been knifed, contracted malaria, pneumonia, dengue fever, hepatitis, and he has even been advised by the U.S. embassy to leave the country for his own safety after receiving death threats.

But Atkinson stayed, telling the children, "If the good run, then the bad win." Amazingly, the threats ceased.

Though he insists that the project's success is all God's doing, not his own, Atkinson's self-sacrifice is contagious. When he founded The God's Child Project in 1991, the University of Mary in Bismarck sent a group of nine students to help lay foundations and construct the project's community building.

Since then, groups of volunteers from across America have come every year. And medical professionals regularly donate weeks and even months to serve the children of Guatemala.

His boyhood parish in Bismarck, the Cathedral of the Holy Spirit, supports him heavily with financial sponsorship of orphans, frequent clothing drives and many prayers.

"This program comes from Patrick's desire to serve Jesus through these kids," explained Leland Nagel, Atkinson's friend who accompanied him to Guatemala in 1991. "Patrick knows every kid and puts a heavy workload on himself. They believe he will help them and, more importantly, they are not just takers. Patrick impresses upon the children that they should give back as they have received."

Thus Luis Hernandez began to volunteer his medical skills for the project, in gratitude for what Atkinson had done for him when he was a child.

Similarly, Sonia Xinico, who was orphaned as a little girl and pulled out of a battle zone by Atkinson, works for The God's Child Project from 8:30 a.m. to 4:15 p.m., then catches a bus to the university and attends classes from 5:30 to 9 p.m. She is in her third year of law school in Guatemala City.

"When I asked her why she wanted to work for us," Atkinson said of Xinico, "her answer was that she's lived through so much -- she knows how hurt so many of the kids are and she might understand them when others can't."

While education is one of the main objectives of The God's Child Project, Atkinson is quick to point out, "We also encourage the children to develop spiritually."

In Guatemala, he explained, antagonism is fierce be-

tween Catholic and Protestant denominations. "There is so much fighting among the faiths in Central America, they often lose the simplicity of Christ's message," he said. "I teach the children that Christianity is like one brick, and that the different expressions are different sides of that same brick."

"We constantly remind them that the only real goal on Earth is to define our relationship with God. All that they do should be centered around this."

Clearly, this is a message that Atkinson has lived out in his own life -- despite being tempted briefly by the American dream. What ever happened to Atkinson's plans to live "the good life"? He admitted that he'd still love to get married and have kids of his own one day, but is content to take life as God leads him. And for now, that means serving God's children in Guatemala.

Armstrong writes from Bismarck, N.D. For more information, contact The God's Child Project, 519 Raymond St., Bismarck, ND 58501; phone: (701) 255-7956

Copyright Our Sunday Visitor, 1997; from the 3-30-97 edition

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