Volunteers rally to help girl from the grasslands

Tricky timing

The Plastic Surgery Hospital of Chinese Academy of Medical Sciences in Beijing is the only one in the country capable of performing the specialized treatment Geru Tsomao required, as her condition was particularly severe.

We planned for more than two years on providing surgery, but had to keep postponing it because of COVID-19, until a break in these outbreaks and support from the Edgar Snow Newsroom meant we had to abruptly shift from waiting to rushing.

The hospital's Cleft Lip and Palate Center's deputy director, Song Tao, expedited the bookings for Geru Tsomao's treatments, as the patient lived so far from Beijing.

The girl, who had previously scarcely left the no-man's land that is nomads' land, arrived in the seething sea of people who whoosh among, up and down the high-rises and skyscrapers of one of the world's most kinetic cities.

As we drove from the airport, I watched the central business district's lights reflected in her eyes.

After she returned to Qumarleb, Geru Tsomao told me:"I was shocked to see those tall buildings. Beijing is very, very huge. I saw lots of things I'd never seen before. I thought one of my dreams had already come true."

In the capital, we took her and Tseringben, a teacher in Qumarleb who has been our partner in Qinghai since Day One, to the Lama Temple－one of Tibetan Buddhism's most important holy places in the world－to pray for the forthcoming surgery. They pair lit incense sticks and watched as the twisting smoke carried their prayers toward heaven.

It seems like heaven was listening.

Not only would their prayers be answered but so, too, would those they hadn't dreamed of－namely, that Geru Tsomao would soon, unexpectedly, get the parents she'd never had.

After visiting the temple, we took her to eat Tex-Mex, as she had never even heard of, let alone tasted, this cuisine. She would be on a liquid diet for weeks following the surgery.

On the way to the surgery the next morning, Tseringben fidgeted anxiously in the back of the car while she snoozed.

"I brought her to Beijing," Tseringben said.

"Geru Tsomao, her grandparents, her teachers, her classmates, the education authorities, the volunteers－everyone－they've all put their trust in me that everything will go OK. So, I feel nervous. I feel responsible."

Geru Tsomao said, "I never thought about life after the surgery."

We spent the morning lining up for a series of tests. We later found Geru Tsomao asleep again in her room, her face covered by a Harry Potter book my 10-year-old daughter had given her, along with other gifts from our family, in case she became bored during her hospital stay.

Then, word came it was time for the surgery.