Can I tell you about someone I met in a small Romanian village?
Her name was Domnica. Whenever our volunteers gathered with the kids, she was almost always nearby. Not in the middle of things—just quietly watching from the edges. You could tell life hadn’t been easy for her. Poverty had left its marks. But she always had this warm, steady smile.
One day we decided to stop and talk with her...
As we celebrate thirty years of Remember the Children in Romania, I’ve been thinking about how this journey has shaped both the ministry — and me.
My earliest memories there are not easy ones. They’re marked by the lingering weight of communism, by hardship, and by the quiet tragedy so many children endured. For many Romanians, those scars are still close to the surface.
What I remember most clearly, though, are the children on the streets — and sometimes beneath them, living in the sewers.
One of them was a boy named Florin.
Then his wife passed away. The group ended soon after, and life moved forward. My own wife is still here—a gift I don’t take lightly. I often wondered how he was doing, but we had kept our lives fairly private, and time passed.
Until the letter arrived.
The envelope was simple, but the return address stopped me. As I read his words, I felt that familiar connection return. He wrote to say thank you—for the conversations, for the honesty, for being known in a season when everything felt uncertain. Then he shared something I hadn’t known.
Four years after war forced families from their homes, the effects of displacement are still deeply personal. I felt that reality most clearly through the story of one young Ukrainian man I met shortly after he arrived in Romania. He came with little more than a backpack, carrying the weight of leaving home, loved ones, and everything familiar behind. The loss was heavy, but even in those early days, there was a quiet resilience in him—rooted in faith and a longing to belong again.
One of the most powerful ways the Gospel reaches people is through new churches—places rooted right in the community where real life happens. Agape Church is one of those places. Supported by Remember the Children, this church plant exists to bring hope, faith, and belonging to people who need it most.
This February, Agape Church steps into its fourth year of ministry. Like many young churches, the journey hasn’t been easy—especially because Agape intentionally serves individuals and families who are…
Can I tell you about someone I met in a small Romanian village?
Her name was Domnica. Whenever our volunteers gathered with the kids, she was almost always nearby. Not in the middle of things—just quietly watching from the edges. You could tell life hadn’t been easy for her. Poverty had left its marks. But she always had this warm, steady smile.
One day we decided to stop and talk with her...
As we celebrate thirty years of Remember the Children in Romania, I’ve been thinking about how this journey has shaped both the ministry — and me.
My earliest memories there are not easy ones. They’re marked by the lingering weight of communism, by hardship, and by the quiet tragedy so many children endured. For many Romanians, those scars are still close to the surface.
What I remember most clearly, though, are the children on the streets — and sometimes beneath them, living in the sewers.
One of them was a boy named Florin.
Then his wife passed away. The group ended soon after, and life moved forward. My own wife is still here—a gift I don’t take lightly. I often wondered how he was doing, but we had kept our lives fairly private, and time passed.
Until the letter arrived.
The envelope was simple, but the return address stopped me. As I read his words, I felt that familiar connection return. He wrote to say thank you—for the conversations, for the honesty, for being known in a season when everything felt uncertain. Then he shared something I hadn’t known.
Four years after war forced families from their homes, the effects of displacement are still deeply personal. I felt that reality most clearly through the story of one young Ukrainian man I met shortly after he arrived in Romania. He came with little more than a backpack, carrying the weight of leaving home, loved ones, and everything familiar behind. The loss was heavy, but even in those early days, there was a quiet resilience in him—rooted in faith and a longing to belong again.
One of the most powerful ways the Gospel reaches people is through new churches—places rooted right in the community where real life happens. Agape Church is one of those places. Supported by Remember the Children, this church plant exists to bring hope, faith, and belonging to people who need it most.
This February, Agape Church steps into its fourth year of ministry. Like many young churches, the journey hasn’t been easy—especially because Agape intentionally serves individuals and families who are…
For the past decade, Remember the Children has shared a meaningful journey with Azusa Pacific University, united by a commitment to investing in the next generation of leaders. Together, we’ve seen classrooms become launchpads as students step into cross-cultural ministry and discover how God can use their lives in ways they never imagined.
Over Christmas we visited a small home where several girls with developmental challenges live together. The house is modest—just three rooms—but it’s filled with warmth thanks to the devoted caregivers who serve them every day….Not long after Christmas, their stove and oven stopped working. With no resources to replace it, the home’s director reached out. A message came to me with a smile: “Santa has one more request.”
On New Year’s Eve in Romania, children bundle up against the cold, tie bells around their waists, and walk from house to house. They recite Plugușorul—a traditional blessing meant to bring luck, protection, and a good year ahead. Smiles are shared, coins are exchanged, and for a moment, hope feels close…
I want to share the rich and heartfelt history of Christmas with Remember the Children in Romania—a journey that began in the late 1990s through our deep partnership with Caminul Felix Children’s Homes.
Our mission started with a simple goal: to find sponsors for each of the 100 children in their care so we could provide new outfits, essential toiletries, and special treats that would brighten their Christmas. Every year, we packed 75-pound army duffel bags filled with carefully chosen gifts and traveled to Romania, eagerly anticipating the celebration that awaited.
For more than 25 years, Remember the Children has helped make Christmas a season of hope for orphaned and at-risk children across Romania. This cherished tradition continued again this year as Alan Meneely and a team of seven traveled to northwest Romania—ready to bring joy, encouragement, and Christ-centered love to hundreds of children.
