Dana L. Yeoman, DDS
Dentures and Implants
The Power of a Smile to Transcend Borders Part 20
Site last published: 08/28/10
The Power of a Smile to Transcend Borders Part 20
“Abandon hope all ye who enter here.”
The author Dante, in his classic Divine Comedy, was describing the words engraved above the gates of hell. Often times I have heard someone lightly quote Dante before entering a hospital cafeteria, a smelly public restroom, or walking into a final exam. It passed through my mind when I walked into college Statistics Class for the first time. The situation was certainly hopeless.
Yet, I have never lived hopelessly. I always have been fed, had a roof over my head, been protected, clean, warm, and loved. I have always belonged to a family. When I was sick, I was taken to the doctor. When I needed a coat or shoes, Mom would take me shopping.
I have trouble explaining the sense of hopelessness that hung like a pall over Mostysche, the Ukrainian orphanage in the countryside. It didn’t help that the orphanage building itself looked like something from a Victorian horror novel. A hundred years ago it had been an army barrack. The building loomed gray, unadorned, imposing, and sinister. There was nothing that made anyone want to go inside. And yet, this building was the place that a hundred children lived together. You would think this fact alone would make Mostysche a happy, lively place. Joy, however, was not one of the outstanding characteristics.
These children were not like others I had met. They were fed meager food of boiled barley and hot dog meat. They fought constant lice, illness, untreated dental pain, poor hygiene, lack of heat in the winter, and not enough clothes to stave off the cold. Furthermore, they had no family and no one to love them. They were probably starved for affection, but it was so unfamiliar they didn’t even know it was missing. The best way I could describe what I saw was that there was no light of hope in their eyes. Hope had long since been abandoned.
Looking for ways we could brighten their lives, we spent a day with the children doing crafts. We intermingled with them and hoped to get them to open up and play. Most of them were uncertain how glue was supposed to work, let alone what to do with the glitter we provided for our projects.
One little boy about nine or ten spent some time with me. His name was Jenya, the equivalent of the American name Gene. He solemnly glued the decorations onto his big yellow star cut-out, and considered the glitter in deep thought. He decided, no glitter. Jenya didn’t seem happy or proud about his art work. He looked as if he had completed an assignment, was satisfied that it was completed, and then was lost for what to do next. Having spent a little time with him, I thought perhaps I could get him to warm up to me. All my smiles, giggles, games, kind pats on the shoulder, never got him to mirror me. The best I was able to draw out was for this photograph... an ambivalent Mona Lisa smile with sadness in his beautiful green eyes.
Returning to Kiev, souvenirs were less important to the Americans. Our team dished out personal money to buy hygiene supplies for the children of Mostysche. We suddenly had a new fervor for finding drug stores with bathing products instead of knick-knacks. When we emptied the shelves of shampoo, toilet paper and soap, we hit the school supplies and wiped out their paper and pencils. A scouting group was sent out to locate shoes and coats, and was allocated the donation money to this purpose. Large boxes were bussed back out to the countryside, much to the teachers’ and the childrens' surprise and relief.
Two days were reserved for my team to stay at dismal Mostysche. During this time, we planned to get our dentistry going full tilt. Knowing so little could be accomplished with our combined meager efforts, we began making plans to do much more for these children with our resources from home.