Here's one of those small-world stories, the kind that shrink the world down to a village and give you a little faith in the power of goodwill.
It begins in early 2008 in Zimbabwe. The country is in turmoil, a family's electricity is out and the backup stove explodes as it's being refueled.
Maka Chawoneka, 4 years old, screams as burned skin and flesh peel from her face and upper body. Her parents rush her to one hospital and then another, but there's little doctors can do for her over the next month but dress the wounds, which fester into ghastly, tumor-like bulbs.
Her mother is a teacher, her father a banker, but in Zimbabwe's sinking economy, they resort to selling chickens, fruits and vegetables, trying to raise enough to take Maka to South Africa for better treatment. They fall short, so they send a photo of Maka to her aunt and uncle, who are living temporarily in Los Angeles, and ask if they can help.
One day at First Christian Church of Burbank, the aunt and uncle approach fellow parishioner Susan Cline and hand her the photo of Maka, knowing she's a nurse at Childrens Hospital Los Angeles.
Cline takes the photo to work, where doctors insist that Maka be brought to Los Angeles as soon as possible. They refer Cline to Mending Kids International, an L.A.-based nonprofit that last year brought 93 sick and injured children from the far corners of the world, delivering them into the hands of doctors at Childrens Hospital, Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center and Cedars-Sinai Medical Center.
Unfortunately for Maka, the paperwork in Zimbabwe takes months, and when she is finally cleared to come to Los Angeles in March, her aunt and uncle are abruptly transferred back to Zimbabwe by their employer. Suddenly, Maka has no host family.
That was when Cline and her husband, Michael, a marketing consultant to flower retailers, came up with an answer for this little girl they'd never met.
"We decided to be the hosts," Susan said in the living room of their five-bedroom house in Chatsworth. Two of their four children are grown and gone, so they have the space. "It was what you would call a no-brainer."
Evan, her 18-year-old son, agreed.
"It was maybe a surprise," he said of his reaction when his parents broke the news that a Zimbabwean girl, and possibly her mother, would be moving in. "But there should be more of this kind of sharing and compassion on this planet."
