This morning began at the Early Intervention and Education Center, where I spent time with the teachers and children. Each child who comes here has a unique story and their own path of progress.
The first boy I worked with is six years old and on the autism spectrum. He’s not yet ready to join grade 1, but hopefully next year he will be. He’s been coming to the center for three years and loves animals. Today’s session focused on games about positioning objects, learning to recognize “on the table,” “under the table,” or “next to the chair.”
The next child, also six, has autism and has been coming for two years. When he first arrived, he often cried and couldn’t respond to his name or recognize his family. Today, he can turn when called, follow simple instructions like sitting down or tidying up his toys, and sometimes even make eye contact. His progress has been remarkable. He lives with his grandparents, as his mother works far away, and he spends most of his time playing in the garden. The teachers told me that his diet and daily routine have improved a lot since he started here.
Then came a little boy of three, who struggles deeply with fear and anxiety. His mother was diagnosed with cerebral palsy, and since then, he’s developed a strong fear of falling or being hurt. During balance exercises, he continued to cry but didn’t stop trying. The teachers say he’s stress, and every session is about helping him feel safe again.
The last child I saw was seven years old. He speaks at home but not at the center, though he’s able to point to objects and communicate through gestures. Each child has their own rhythm, and the teachers adapt every session to their specific needs. The follow-up here is personal and long-term. The goal is to help each child gain confidence and independence, step by step.
In the afternoon, the weather completely changed. Heavy rain poured over Đức Linh, part of a tropical storm hitting the center of the country. Even so, we went to visit families, and I quickly found myself soaked despite my raincoat.
The first family we visited consisted of a father and his teenage son. The mother left nine years ago, and their daughter now lives with her grandparents. The father grows coffee on 3 000 m² of land for coffee and does occasional work for others. His son used to receive a scholarship from Thiện Chí until grade 9, but he dropped out and now helps his aunt sell rice. The father has vision problems and knee pain, making work difficult. He has health insurance through Thiện Chí but still struggles to afford medication. He took a 2 million dong loan to support his small coffee crop.
The second family was made up of a couple and two sons. The oldest just returned from military service and hasn’t found stable work yet, while the youngest dropped out of school to help his parents. The husband works as a daily laborer, and the wife raises chickens and ducks, plus she sews. They don’t own farmland and took a 4 million dong loan from Thiện Chí to develop their small business.
The last family we met included five people, parents and three children. The mother faces serious health issues: hyperthyroidism, heart problems, swollen fingers, and meningitis-related tuberculosis. She used to work in a factory but had to stop. Now, she peels cashew nuts at home. They once received a cow from the government but had to sell it to pay for her health insurance. Every month, she travels to Ho Chi Minh City for treatment, but sometimes skips visits because she can’t afford the medicine. Her husband recently started working at a factory, earning six million dong per month, and she applied for a job at the same place, though she’s worried about her health. Their eldest daughter receives a yearly scholarship from Thiện Chí to continue her studies.
Leticia