It had been a sweltering August day in the Ugandan countryside. As the sun dipped toward the horizon, a man made his way slowly home from the market, walking along a narrow dirt road. Just as he rounded a bend, he heard it—a faint cry. A baby’s cry. Weak, but unmistakable.

He stopped, peering into the banana plantation that bordered the road for nearly a kilometer. Perhaps a mother was working in the grove with her child? That was what he had assumed earlier that day, when he had passed the same spot and heard the same sound. But now, as the evening deepened, his concern grew.

Sliding down the embankment, he pushed carefully into the grove, following the thin cries until he came to the base of a large banana plant. What he saw there made his heart sink. Wrapped in a thin white sheet lay a baby girl, no more than six weeks old—alone, abandoned, and hungry. She had likely been left there since morning.

He lifted the little one into his arms. His heart ached—he could barely provide for his own family, let alone care for another child. Unsure of what to do, he stashed his market goods behind a tree and began retracing his steps toward the village, now carrying a fragile bundle that needed help far more urgently than he did.

By the time he reached the police station, the officer on duty was just locking up. After hearing the man’s story, the officer shook his head. “I can’t take this baby home with me,” he said, though after a moment’s thought, he remembered a young Christian family in the village. They were called, and within minutes came rushing to pick up the infant, who by then was desperately in need of milk.

In Uganda, hundreds of newborns are abandoned each year—left on doorsteps, at police stations, or sometimes even in the jungle to die. Poverty, malnutrition, and utter desperation drive mothers to heartbreaking choices. Police often have little capacity to respond beyond initial investigations, and someone must care for these children in the meantime.

That night, the young Christian family reached out to Ishaka Adventist Hospital, knowing just who to call. The next morning, Lexi and nurse Rebecca drove the twenty minutes to collect the baby. To their surprise, despite her ordeal, she looked healthier than many malnourished infants they had seen. At the hospital, one nurse said, “she looks like a little Angel.” The name stuck, and soon staff from across the hospital stopped by the pediatrics ward to see little Angel.

Yet even the hospital’s resources are stretched thin. Lexi spent the day watching over Angel, wondering what her future would hold. By evening, an unexpected call came. A woman from the local Rotary Club explained that she and her husband often cared for abandoned babies while police searched for relatives. If no family came forward, they had been praying to adopt a little girl—and Angel seemed like an answer to their prayers.

With a handwritten note and signatures, baby Angel was entrusted to the lady. Lexi and the team said their goodbyes as they carried her away, full of hope for a brighter future.

Stories like Angel’s are heartbreakingly common in Uganda. During our time at Ishaka Adventist Hospital, we witnessed many difficult things—but little Angel will forever remain in our hearts. We pray that today she is growing strong, surrounded by the love and care every child deserves.