Patti Puckett Few comforts await us at Hope of a Child, the orphanage I arrive at after a bumpy, two hour bus ride from the Puerto Plata airport.
Dust hangs in the musty air.
Our modest guest quarters are furnished with cheap cots. There is no hot water. But there are plenty of hugs. The 18 children who live here rush to embrace the American strangers, volunteers who have come to visit and help. They long to sit in our laps, ride on our backs, speak to us in animated Spanish.