Jeanne Dorr

Caring for Lithuania's Forgotten Treasure

Jeanne Dorr, is a member of the Board of Directors of Lithuanian Orphan Care, a branch of the Human Services Council of the Lithuanian American Community, Inc. She is also a Social Studies teacher in New Jersey.

The late Dr. Albina Prunskis, founder and first president of Lithuanian Orphan Care, was a woman of infinite love and perpetual energy when it came to helping Lithuania’s children. Right before I left for Lithuania on my last trip, Dr Prunskis telephoned me with a personal request. She was already in poor health and the sadness in her voice was evident as she told me there would be no more trips to Lithuania for her. Despite her illness, she was worried about the children and the work that still had to be done. She asked me if I could possibly find the time to visit a personal favorite of hers. Of course, there’s always time when children are concerned.

Two girls abandoned by their family find a loving home at Laima’s. Photo: Jeanne Dorr

Dr. Prunskis asked me to visit Laikinų Vaikų Globos Namai, a home for children in Vilnius. Although this particular home is not under the auspices of Lithuanian Orphan Care, it was a project that was near and dear to the heart of Albina Prunskis.

Upon my arrival in Lithuania, I telephoned Laima Makutėnaitė, the director of the home. We set a time to meet, and before long we were standing on the steps of the apartment building in Vilnius where Laima took her children in, many of them off the streets. The building was the standard Soviet-style apartment, drab and gray. As we entered, Laima explained that two apartments had been empty; one had been a small library. The apartments were filthy and littered with garbage. There was no heat or electricity. Little by little, with the help of friends and back breaking work, the apartments began to resemble a home. When the other dwellers heard this was to become children’s home, they became very irate. This was a typical situation of “it’s a good idea, but not in my neighborhood”. To this day the other residents ignore Laima and the children.

One of Laima’s treasures enjoys a chocolate bar. Photo: Jeanne Dorr

Once the inside was made habitable, Laima turned to the outside. This was a city home and the children would need a place to play outdoors. Unfortunately, the outside was as bad as the inside. Garbage, litter, and broken glass would be all the children would find when they went out. Once again, she begged for soil to be brought to the apartment complex, trees and flowers were planted, and some friends constructed a sandbox from donated wood. On December 19, 1996, the first two orphans arrived.

As we entered the neat and orderly house, I asked Laima to tell me about herself. (I’m always curious about the people who dedicate their lives to helping the children of strangers.) Laima’s family was deported to Siberia where they spent eighteen years. During that time their belief in God sustained them day in and day out. Eighteen years in Siberia could not break her father’s spirit or his love for Lithuania. After his release, he was one of the thousands in 1991 guarding the radio building in Vilnius as Soviet soldiers attempted to cut off communications. He was beaten so badly that his face required many stitches. Now I began to understand what moved his daughter to have so much love to give to others.

Laima showed me several picture albums of her children. As we turned the pages, she told me something about each and every child on the page. She was as proud as any parent could be. I began to sense that this house was different than the others I had visited. It certainly was -- the children stayed here for different lengths of time. It could be several hours or several years. Try running a house like this one -- never knowing how many children will be here from one day to the next.

At the time of my visit, there were seven girls and six boys ranging from two to eleven years in age. Laima told me how the police often bring children they find on the streets or in bus stations. This is not a regional house, as the children are from all regions of Lithuania.

Why do they run away? There are as many reasons as there are children. Some have arguments at home and think life on the streets will be easier with no rules to obey. They find out very quickly that they were wrong. Others are fleeing abusive parents; while, their parents abandon some.

I heard a sad story about a child whose mother never recovered from giving birth. As hard as she tried to cope and be a good mother, she just couldn’t handle it. She comes to visit her child often, and each time it breaks both their hearts when she has to leave alone. However, most children are there because they have alcoholic parents. As Laima told me, “The bottle is more important to them than the child.” She pointed to a picture of a five-year old, who had a rather well to do family. The parents drank it all away until the child did not have a roof over his head.

Then there was the precious little girl, also five-years old, whose little arm was so badly twisted that when she arrived they thought her arm was useless. It seems that every time her parents drank too much they twisted her arm. This little girl was such a nervous wreck; she jumped at the least little sound. She constantly ducked and covered her face as though waiting to be struck. When I met her later, I saw a beautiful, well-adjusted child. Laima spent many hours massaging her arm and now she is able to use it. However, if you look closely, you can see that it still has a slight twist.

When the children are first brought to Laikinų Vaikų Globos Namai, the first stop is the bathroom. Here they are given a hot bath. For those from the country where there is no indoor plumbing, it is the first time they have ever used a bathtub. Some have to have their heads shaved because of lice; while others have to have their clothing burned. Next they are given a hot meal. There have been children who did not know how to eat with utensils; they would grab their plates and run from the room. Eventually Laima would get them to sit down, while all the time reassuring them that no one would take their food. She would speak to them gently while holding their hands and guiding the food into their mouths with the utensils. It wasn’t always easy, and very often it was frustrating. Some even ate the Christmas scenes, which were made from dough. Once again they had to be patiently taught that everything they see could not go into their mouths.

For the first few days most children have a look of horror in their eyes. Little by little they begin to smile. Some cover their ears or run from the room when they hear the word, “Mama”. Others want to see their mothers, but they don’t want to go home; they want their mothers to visit them at Laima’s.

The most difficult time of the year at the house is Mother’s Day. In Lithuania, the day is not ruined by commercialism. Rather, it is a true holiday to honor mothers. Laima encourages the mothers to visit the children on that day and to spend time with them. The children are so excited and are dressed in their best charity clothes. So many times there are promises by the mothers, often broken when they do not show up. The children wait and wait and look out the windows. But there is no Mama. She broke her promise, and once again the disappointment and frustrations mount.

How much pain of this nature can a small child endure? Some act up, some cry, and have to be comforted. Others sit silently alone and refuse to talk. It is this group which concerns Laima the most. Sometimes she can get them to draw their feelings on a piece of paper, but it is never easy. How do you explain to a child that his mother doesn’t want him?

I toured the house, which was neat and attractive, and at the same time had a “lived” in look. There were several small beds in each bedroom and a family sitting room. The children felt very much at home. For many it was a palace compared to where they came from. Each child is encouraged to keep their living space neat and orderly, and yet have an identity of their own. Their artwork hangs on the walls, as do colorful posters.

Laima’s typical workday begins around

8 A.M., and if she is lucky, ends at 10 P.M. Two women work at the home and help with cleaning, laundry and cooking. One sleeps in at night.

I couldn’t help noticing schedules posted on the walls. Laima explained that she knew exactly when each child was due home from school. For the first two weeks she personally takes each child to school on the trolley. If the older ones have any thoughts of skipping classes, this is quickly erased from their minds as they see Laima conferring with each of their teachers. Because she has had so many children and the teachers know her so well, they are very quick to notify her if there are any problems. They also know she will be stopping in to frequently discuss the children.

This came as a total shock to some of the children who never had a routine. This is the first stability some of them had ever encountered. Their parents really didn’t care if they attended school or not. Some didn’t go because they didn’t have shoes; while, others did not have winter coats. As for an adult checking their progress, this was unheard of to them. The chart states the time school starts and the time it ends. No child should arrive home more than fifteen minutes late. If they are, there’s a lot of explaining that must be done.

Laima and the children attend church as a family. She tries to do everything a typical family would do: they enjoy picnics and outings in the summer, as well as sledding in the winter. They learn Lithuanian history. Every January 13 the children are brought to the television tower in Vilnius where the Lithuanians were killed in 1991.

Money always comes into question on these visits. Although they are associated with Lithuanian Catholic Women, they receive no financial help. She estimates that the government provides 50% of the funding necessary to take care of a child. It is up to her to find the rest of the money. With every organization and group in Lithuania in dire need for money, this is always a constant problem.

I would like to share a story with you about two of the little girls. One came running over to me teary-eyed and with a bright red scratch across the entire bridge of her nose. She was five years old and carrying the weight of the world on her little shoulders. Apparently, she and her best friend had a misunderstanding about whose turn it was to play with a doll. Her friend lost all patience, grabbed the doll, and hit her across the nose. My little friend was completely devastated. I don’t know if it was the loss of the doll or the loss of a friend, which was worse.

As we sat on the outside steps, I asked her if perhaps she needed a new best friend. After all, one can not tolerate a best friend hitting her in the nose. She thought about it and nodded her head in agreement, but I could tell she still wasn’t quite sure. She looked up at me with the biggest eyes I’ve ever seen and asked if I would be her new best friend. I told her I was very flattered, but because I lived so far away, I couldn’t play with her every day.

She sat with her little hands on her chin thinking it over. Could I at least come on weekends and play with her? I told her I lived too far for weekend play, but this was something she was unable to fathom. How far away could I possibly live that I couldn’t come on weekends? Did I live as far as Kaunas?

As I glanced out of the corner of my eye, I saw the “former best friend” sitting in the sandbox also looking very sad. I walked my little friend over to the sandbox where we sat down with the “former best friend”. We talked about sharing, hitting, and best friends. Neither spoke to the other but rather to me and through me.

Tears began to dry and long faces turned into smiles. Within a few minutes the two little girls walked off arm in arm with the doll between them. My little friend whispered to her best friend, both nodded their heads in agreement, and then ran back to me pressing the doll into my hands and hugging me. Even five year-olds know the value of a “best friend”. They understand that a “best friend” is someone to be treasured and is more important than material goods. How much we can learn from children. They reminded me of a quote I once read; "Children are people under construction".

I would like to thank Laima for being a mother to so many of Lithuania’s children and for spending so much time with me. I would also like to thank the organizations I contacted who have sent boxes to the children. But I especially owe a debt of gratitude to the late Dr. Albina Prunskis who urged me to add just one more visit to my list while I was in Lithuania. I’m sure she is looking down from heaven, smiling, and saying, “I told you that you would not be disappointed”.

If you are a member of an organization and are looking for a project, this is a very worthwhile endeavor. There is a constant need for clothing, all kinds and all sizes. Sometime during the year a child of that size will appear on the doorstep. So many of the children arrive with only the clothes on their backs and often those clothes have to be burned. Shoes, bedroom slippers, boots, winter jackets are especially needed. Necessary items include toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo, soap, and other personal care items. Last year, 93 children passed through the doors of Laikinų Vaikų Namai. If you or your organization can be of assistance, the address is: