In February, 2001, we wrote:

"Another day, Harvin's brother Darwin appeared at our door.  Filthy and dressed in rags, Darwin is the kind of street kid that most people cross to the other side of the street in order to avoid.  A seemingly hopeless glue addict, Darwin has been on the streets for five years.  If he enters a shelter or rehab program, he normally returns to the streets within the week, drawn by the desire to inhale yellow glue.

Darwin's visits bring out the parenting drive in the Micah boys.  Before he knew what had hit him, he was out of his clothes and in the shower, with two boys supervising to make sure that the months of grime on his undernourished frame were completely washed down the drain.  Another boy washed his clothes, while yet another looked for a  t-shirt to donate to him.  As they washed him, the boys encouraged Darwin to leave the streets and the drugs.  Fourteen year-old Darwin, however, is so damaged by years of toxic inhalants that he doesn't understand the majority of what is being said to him, and he rarely speaks in reply.

After getting cleaned up, Darwin took a three-hour nap on our sofa.  He refused to take off his shoes while he slept, for fear that someone would steal them.  When he woke up, he was ready to leave.  He turned over his baby-food jar full of toxic glue to his brother Harvin, who made him promise not to buy another.  Most of us knew, though, as he walked down the hill to downtown Tegucigalpa, that he would soon find a way to pay the few cents that a fresh bottle of glue costs.  Harvin was very quiet for the rest of the day; though he was with us physically, his mind was wandering the streets with his lost brother Darwin."