This is a continuation from Part I of Oscar’s story.

Oscar's journey toward starting over – learning to speak, going to school, playing with other children – began during the medical mission in Tegucigalpa, Honduras.

An Operation Smile medical records volunteer, Juan Zablah, saw a story about Oscar and his family in a local newspaper, La Tribuna. The article highlighted extreme poverty in Honduras, and asked readers to help Oscar's family.

The newspaper published several photos of his family in their home. In one, Oscar stood prominently in the front of the home, staring at the camera, smiling through his cleft lip.

Juan immediately did everything he could to get in touch with Oscar and his family. His determination worked – in a few weeks, Oscar and his mother, Gloria, traveled to the Operation Smile medical mission in Tegucigalpa hoping that this stranger who took such an interest in them could help.

Oscar and Gloria joined nearly 200 other families, all hoping for a chance at surgery. Neither Oscar nor his mother had ever seen someone else with a cleft lip or cleft palate before. After staying by his mother’s side all morning, Oscar found comfort in the other children who looked like him – tossing a ball around, running in between chairs like a homemade obstacle course, and trying to pop more bubbles than the others. Oscar, and all the other children, were waiting to complete their medical assessment, which would determine who is healthy enough to undergo surgery.

For Oscar, the medical team not only decided he was a perfect candidate for surgery, but the team decided to go even further to help him. Instead of operating on his cleft lip and cleft palate over two separate medical missions, Dr. Daniel Pyo, a plastic surgeon from New Jersey and lead surgeon on the medical mission, made the call to do both operations at once.

“It will be a marathon surgery, he will be in a bit of pain afterwards, but we have to do it,” Dr. Pyo said. “We can fix his lip, but if he can’t speak, how will he go to school?”

“You do everything you can for every patient you see,” said Dr. Pyo, the surgical team leader in Tegucigalpa. “When you see a patient like Oscar, you do everything you can and then more. We had to operate on both his lip and palate. We couldn’t let him go home knowing they wouldn’t be able to come back.”

While Dr. Pyo and the volunteer medical team prepared for a four-hour surgery, a psychologist explained to Gloria what her child was about to go through as Oscar played nearby. Continuously nodding yes while the psychologist was speaking, Gloria seemed to understand what her son was about to endure. At 7 years old, Oscar was playfully at ease until it was time to go into the operating room.

While Oscar was in surgery, Gloria did not leave the door he went through for more than four hours. Other parents found benches around the hospital courtyard or occupied their other children, but Gloria stood, paced and sometimes kneeled beside that very door. 

“My heart gets big knowing that he can have surgery and be a normal boy now,” Gloria said. “I asked God to cure him so he can grow up and be a good man be able to get work and have friends.”

As the sun went down, Oscar was the final patient in the operating room. Gloria watched as dozens of parents reunited with their children, smiling in disbelief. She waited to see her son, to see his new smile, to feel what those other parents were feeling.

Finally, a nurse came out to the hallway and motioned for Gloria to follow. Inside, she saw Oscar still sleeping in the recovery room. Cupping her face in her hands, she began to silently sob as if not to wake him. Wiping away tears, Gloria said she had never felt so much love from strangers before. She never thought people would love her little Oscar despite his cleft condition and to take care of him so well.

“Thank you, thank you,” Gloria repeated in English. Through a translator, she said she has never been so happy.