Category Archives: Stories

Restoring houses and hearts in Nashville and nationwide

Last July, Heidi Isaza covered this heartwarming story of Lisa McEleny, who traveled to Nashville, Tennessee, to volunteer with World Vision’s recovery efforts in the wake of destructive flooding that hit the city in 2010. During her week there, Lisa discovered that God had a much bigger purpose in mind for her than just rebuilding a damaged house. This year, World Vision is organizing mission trips all across the United States. Check out the dates and locations — you could be a part of something meaningful and life-changing....
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The glamor of a brothel raid

Rich Stearns, president of World Vision U.S., shares a story from his recent visit to Cambodia that highlights the numerous interventions required to fight poverty, injustice, and oppression — those that are dramatic and highly-publicized, as well as those that are less conspicuous but equally critical....
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When the colors of life go out: A tribute to fallen children

“I decided to devote my life to telling the story because I felt that having survived I owe something to the dead, and anyone who does not remember betrays them again.” —Elie Wiesel, Holocaust survivor, author, and Nobel laureate *     *     * I love happy stories, when the hero wins, the unlikely couple falls in love, or the outcast saves the day. As a photojournalist for World Vision, I love telling stories about children’s lives being transformed and communities finding innovative solutions to decades-old problems. But tragically, not all stories have happy endings. Not all communities rejoice. Not all children survive. Before becoming a mom, I felt a lump in my throat whenever I sat in rural huts or busy...
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A child’s open letter: “I was lost, but now am found”

Bukra Sala, a 14-year-old girl living in an area of poverty in Albania, shares her young life’s story — one of struggles, pain, and loss that turned to hope and renewed purpose with World Vision’s help. *     *     * Dear friend, My name is Bukra, which, in my language, Albanian, means “beautiful.” I am 14 years old. I live in a poverty-stricken suburb of Albania’s capital city, Tirana. I was born in this poor place in 1998, and I still live here. About six years ago, I remember my life as normal — at least compared to other young children in the area. I had a happy family of two parents and five children. I am...
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