I adopted four children during the height of India’s COVID pandemic.
India is in the middle of a devastating second wave of COVID, and with a population of 1.3 billion, it feels less like a wave and more like a tidal surge swallowing entire communities. Ten years have passed since I left my life in the USA and permanently moved to India to rescue abandoned children, offering them safety, family, and the love of a mother.
Over the past decade, I’ve become known as someone people turn to when everything else feels hopeless. Now, as hospitals overflow and fear spreads faster than the virus, my phone hardly stops ringing. Most calls are desperate pleas for food, water, medicine, or transportation. But one call would change our lives forever — and it became the beginning of our adoption journey with Satya and Satish, two fragile boys from a village more than 700 miles away.
A voice, trembling and grief-stricken, said, “Courtney, ma’am… a terrible tragedy has happened. My sister is gone… and her babies… I’m all they have, and I have nothing to feed them.”
The caller was Vikash, a 17-year-old boy working at a bicycle repair shop in Delhi, barely surviving himself. He sent me a heartbreaking video of his sister’s lifeless body being pulled from the river. Through tears and broken pauses, he told the story of how everything had fallen apart.
His sister, Veda, was like millions of others in India suffering because of the pandemic. Families who already lived hand-to-mouth suddenly had nothing. When the government deposited 2,000 rupees — roughly $27 — into the accounts of people below the poverty line, Veda immediately bought rations to make sure her two sons, Satya (4) and Satish (6), would not starve.
That night, her husband came home drunk, demanded money for alcohol, and exploded when he learned the money was gone. He beat her to death… and threw her into the river.
Because Vikash was the only relative, custody went to him. But he was still a child himself — jobless because of lockdown, uneducated, and barely surviving. Realizing his nephews would not live long under these conditions, he reached out after hearing about our children’s home.
I spoke with my husband, and without hesitation he said, “We have to save these boys.” But lockdowns, distance, and rising infections made it seem impossible. We prayed and trusted God to make a way. Miraculously, one of the few interstate bus drivers running routes was from Vikash’s village. He secured tickets and guarded the boys during their two-day journey to Delhi.
Thinking about what they had endured crushed my heart. They had witnessed their mother’s murder. They lost everything familiar and were now alone on a bus, watching the green fields fade into gray city streets, carrying fear too heavy for such small shoulders.
When they arrived, Vikash brought them straight to our house — their new home. We opened the gate with open hearts, asking God for wisdom to love and care for them exactly as they needed.
Saying goodbye, Vikash told them they were safe now. Satya clung to his uncle’s leg, while Satish burst into tears and ran toward the house. Vikash forced a brave smile, but I could see the pain in his eyes — mixed with deep gratitude that they finally had a chance to live.
Before leaving, he bowed low and touched my feet, the Indian gesture of respect. With tears streaming down his face, he whispered, “Thank you. You saved my sister’s children.”
I think of my sons’ birth mothers often, especially Veda. Any mother knows — your children live in every breath and every thought. Sometimes I cry imagining her final moments, believing she must have prayed, “God, please take care of my babies.”
Today, as Satya and Satish play hide-and-seek with my ten other children — laughing, safe, surrounded by warmth — I feel our home has truly been touched by God. I believe He heard her prayer and answered through us.
There’s a verse that says God uses the weak to do mighty things. I feel that deeply. I walk through heartbreak daily, yet somehow there is strength in it. I’ve seen the glamorous life, and I know true purpose lives here — among the forgotten, where love can change everything.
Across India, countless children are becoming orphaned each day, especially now. This past year, we welcomed two more boys, each with their own story of loss and survival. Our family keeps growing, and as long as children need a home, my arms will stay open.
I will continue being mother to Satish, Satya, and my ten other boys. I will keep saying yes. Because every child deserves a place where healing can begin — and where they know they finally belong.
