If you drive seven hours northwest from Bangkok, 230 km first of flat land then hills and winding roads, you reach scenic Sangkhlaburi. You can find it on a map near the Three Pagodas Pass into Burma. It boasts the longest wooden bridge in Thailand, and beautiful nature. If you want waterfalls, rough jungle and impressive sunsets and sunrises, this is heaven. But not all its people live in paradise. Political check points along the road prevent many from traveling any distance at all. They are kept from obtaining an education, medical care, or job opportunities.

 I traveled there to deliver a half dozen wheelchairs and visit Candlelight, a community based rehabilitation program which distributed wheelchairs we donated one year ago. I wanted to see how the recipients were faring with their chairs. I was allowed to shadow Lea, a Filipina nurse who originally went there to work for a couple of years, but had now served for almost 20. She oversees the Candlelight project, and knew the people and their needs intimately from her weekly follow-up visits.

We traveled by scooter to visit the homes. I carried decorated soaps made by a Tokyo Deaf Association to give as gifts and watched the reaction of children and adults alike in receiving these. What I really longed to give them was more wheelchairs.

Only one home we visited had a clock. Time was irrelevant as we sat on the floor and held babies, talked with the mothers, and encouraged children with their physical therapy exercises as they showed off as best they could. The nurse listened to the mothers’ questions and concerns about the children’s health, and we heard over and over the need for a wheelchair. Children who are not able to walk are often left alone at home, sometimes with horrific

 consequences as Burmese soldiers roam the area freely while parents work in fields. The rich green jungle all around was a cruel contrast with the people, some barely surviving. We visited a home where the 10 year old girl with cerebral palsy lay on the floor all day, alone, waiting for her father to

return home in the evening. Her mother had died a year ago. Her clothes were soiled and had we not come, she would have waited until evening to be cleaned, as she does every day. Her smile was genuine, she longed for human companionship, to get out. Were her father to save an entire year’s wages, he still would not be able to purchase the wheelchair that she needed. A functional wheelchair for her is only a dream. Or is it?