What greater act of love can one make than to give oneself wholly and entirely for the relief of the afflicted? Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying” “whom shall I send, and who will go for us?’ And I said, “Here I am, Lord. Send me.” - Isaiah 6:8

Let me tell you a story, not the kind you hear every day, but the kind that reminds you of the quiet, powerful work still happening in the far corners of our world.

In a small village in northern Ghana, a baby girl was born under a wide African sky streaked with gold and dust. Her name was Anna. She had soft brown eyes and a quiet presence. But as the months passed, something seemed different. Anna did not babble like other babies. She did not form words. She did not call out for her mother. And in the region where she was born, silence can be misunderstood.

In parts of Ghana and across areas of western Africa, children born with disabilities are labeled “spirit children.” Rooted in generations of fear and folklore, the belief suggests that a child who does not develop typically may be a bad omen. In the most heartbreaking cases, these children are abandoned. Some are not allowed to live. Anna was one of the abandoned ones. Left behind because she did not speak. Left behind because she was misunderstood. Left behind because she was feared.

But Anna’s story was not meant to end there. She was brought to Nazareth Home for God’s Children — a place built not on fear, but on faith. A place founded by one woman who refused to accept that any child is disposable. That woman is Rev. Sister Stan Mumuni.

For over 20 years, Sister Stan has devoted her life to caring for children the world too often forgets. Children born with physical disabilities or deformities, children cast aside because of superstition, children who would not survive without intervention.

She now cares for more than 150 children, offering not only safety, but education, medical care, warm meals, and most importantly, Hope. If that sounds like a big job, it’s because it is. And she does it with a heart the size of the Sahara and a budget that could fit in a shoebox!

When Anna arrived, she did not speak. She did not cry much either. She had learned that silence was safer. But at Nazareth Home, something miraculous happened. She was held. She was fed. She was prayed over. She was loved. And slowly, Anna began to change.

Though she still does not speak in words, Anna now communicates with her eyes, her laughter, and the way she reaches for Sister Stan’s hand. She is nourished. She is safe. She is alive because someone chose compassion over superstition.

Today, Anna runs across the courtyard with other children once labeled “spirit children.” They play under mango trees. They sing. They learn. They are seen. And every single one of them is living proof that love can break generational fear.

Sister Stan’s work is the real deal. She is known and trusted in her community and has received worldwide recognition for her humanitarian efforts. But recognition doesn’t buy livestock. Praise doesn’t patch roofs or fill plates. She dreams of building a self-sustaining home for these children, not luxuries, just the basics:

• Livestock: chickens, goats, cows to provide food and income
• Everyday needs: clothing, dishes, tools, bedding
• Volunteers: hands to build shelters, barns, and a stronger future.

Sister Stan cannot do this alone. None of us can do big work alone. But together? Together we can lift a village. We can build a roof. We can fill a plate. We can turn despair into joy, one goat, one bed, one child at a time.

Anna’s silence once caused her to be abandoned. Now, her life speaks volumes.

Nazareth Home for God’s Children is the difference between abandonment and belonging. Between superstition and sanctuary. Between a life ended and a life embraced.

Submitted on behalf of Sister Stan — and 150 beautiful reasons to believe in the power of faith and love!

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