From Fragility to Family: The Journey of Tong Kla

For weeks, he remained in the ICU, surrounded by machines and quiet uncertainty. The doctors tried. They tried so hard. But as days turned to weeks, hope started to slip through the cracks. Tong Kla’s body wasn’t responding. His vital signs flickered like a candle fighting wind. Eventually, the medical team began to prepare for what they believed was inevitable.

But Hands Across the Water has always believed in possibilities, not probabilities.
And so, one final call was made—to Baan Home Hug.

Mae Thiew, the director of the home, has opened her heart to hundreds of children over the years. But even for her, this call was different. This wasn’t about long-term placement or education planning. It was about giving one small boy a chance to pass peacefully, with love. A final embrace. A soft place to land.

But what happened next would change the course of Tong Kla’s life forever.

Mae Thiew didn’t just take Tong Kla in. She wrapped him in love like a warm blanket on a cold night. She held him as if he were her own. She looked past the wires, the charts, and the medical prognosis. She saw a baby. A baby who hadn’t yet been given the chance to feel what love really meant.

And as it turns out, love has a power that medicine sometimes doesn’t.

Tong Kla started to respond. Slowly at first. A breath that didn’t need assistance. A hand that gripped a finger. Eyes that opened longer, wider. What was expected to be a goodbye became a beginning.

It wasn’t easy—not then, and not now. There have been countless hospital visits. Close calls. Nights filled with worry. But never—not once—has there been a moment when Tong Kla has been without someone by his side.

Since arriving at Baan Home Hug in March 2020, he has transformed from a paper-thin newborn to a lively, curious boy. His cheeks are fuller now, his laughter contagious. He loves being cuddled, and even more so, he loves the company of his new brothers and sisters—other children whose lives, like his, didn’t begin with privilege, but who found a future through love, security, and opportunity.

At Hands Across the Water, we often speak of creating lives of choice, not chance. For Tong Kla, this isn’t a tagline. It’s the very essence of his journey.

Had no one answered that call, Tong Kla’s story could have ended in a hospital crib. Another forgotten child. But that’s not how his story goes. Because someone showed up. Because you showed up.

Behind every child we support is a network of people—donors, sponsors, supporters—who say, “This child matters.” People who may never meet Tong Kla in person but who have stood beside him every step of the way. People who give not just money, but hope. Not just resources, but reasons to believe in something better.

It’s easy to look at numbers. To talk about impact in statistics. But nothing captures the real heart of this work quite like the soft sigh of a baby sleeping peacefully in the arms of someone who chose to love him when the world walked away.

Tong Kla is still on his journey. He has medical challenges ahead. His early arrival into this world will always carry consequences. But now, he carries something even more powerful—a future. One filled with storybooks and smiles, schoolbags and scraped knees, birthday candles and bedtime hugs.

He may never know the name of the woman who gave birth to him. But he knows Mae Thiew’s voice. He knows the comfort of a hand that never lets go. He knows what it feels like to be chosen, to be celebrated, and most importantly, to be loved.
And this is what Hands Across the Water exists for.

We’re not here to rewrite children’s beginnings. We’re here to walk beside them through the chapters that come next. To ensure that every child—no matter how they start—has a chance to thrive. To grow. To lead.

Every dollar given. Every ride completed. Every act of support helps us continue this work. It helps us say yes when the world says no. It helps us answer the call.