Grace Family Vineyards

In less than an hour there was a twinkle in his eye- sure his legs were undeveloped through lack of use, sure he was small for his age, but he was alive and he knew it and he appreciated it- his whole being shone with it. They left him sitting watching the world go by, feeding himself raisins, aware that he had a future.

Everyone who witnessed it was reduced to tears, and all of them- from many faiths and from none- saw Jesus, Buddha or Moses on his face. It is an old story, but it is still a fresh story.

It takes very little love to transform a life.

The story could stop there and it would be an uplifting, but ultimately irrelevant traveler's tale, however this is a story about Hope. Next day the group of trekkers met a Good Politician, who was heading towards the Nameless Child's village. Being an impossibly poor country doesn't mean that anyone can just march in and run off with babies. No matter how neglected the child might be, like anywhere else there are official channels that you ignore at your peril.

The politician knew all the right people and promised to act, so one week later the Nameless Child was waiting for us at the airport in Lukla. His cousin, the village postman, gratefully, apologetically and embarrassedly delivered him with the mother's blessing and all the necessary signed releases.

The Nameless Child arrived with smiles, laughter, playfulness and a huge appetite. Our Nepalese Sherpa guide was as smitten as the rest of us and was delighted to adopt him, so with a new family, a clean bill of health and a team of sponsors he was ready for a new life in Kathmandu.

It might have been two years late, but finally John Karma Sherpa had a name. John because his adoptive Nepalese father felt he needed a good solid American name. Karma (which is Nepali for 'Star') after the Eiseley story about making a difference that we had heard in the camp two days prior to finding him, and Sherpa because at long last he had a tribe ... to which he belonged.