Introduction
This is Alita. She is one of our CVF Scholarship students. To date, this program has changed the lives of 27 current undergraduates and 40 graduates. Students enter the program after graduating from high school, usually around age 17 or 18, and begin their college studies.
We get to know these young women, fall in love with them, and then watch them achieve what once seemed impossible — graduating from college, building careers, supporting their parents and siblings, and breaking the chains of poverty.
What we rarely see, however, are their early years, what life was like growing up in their villages.
Through an unusual series of events, I happened to capture small moments from Alita’s childhood in photographs taken during our early visits to Cambodia. Looking back through them years later, I realized they told a story.
I call them “Alita’s Missing Pictures.”
The Story Begins
If you know me, you know I love taking pictures.
In the early years working in Cambodia, I spent most of the time behind the camera lens quietly observing, framing moments, capturing faces before they disappeared into memory. Back then, Bill and I were the “two big-nosed foreigners” wandering through the village with open eyes and open hearts, and I was always with my camera. Years later, some of the kids admitted they were afraid of us.
It didn’t take long before we became their “King and Queen,” surrounded by an entourage of laughing children. Then there was no time to focus on capturing the priceless photos of the children. We became the subjects of the photos, surrounded by precious faces. I miss those early days when I could slip into the background and simply watch life unfold.
2008 — The First School Visit
In January 2008, Bill and I first traveled to Kaun Khlong village to deliver school uniforms. We arrived early in the morning and walked through cheering children lined up along the dusty road to the old, dilapidated school.
We were seated at the ceremony with the principal, community leaders, and Man Seourn — the courageous matriarch behind the Cambodian Village Fund. To many in the village, Man Seourn is simply Grandma. She is protector, champion, and guiding force.
After the speeches, we distributed uniforms. The children’s gratitude overwhelmed us. So little meant so much.
Later, we had lunch with the teachers and dignitaries at one of the houses in the village. We watched a strong young man climb high into a coconut tree to harvest coconuts for us.
After a short relaxation after lunch, I was drawn back into snapping pictures of everything in sight. I spotted a baby girl, about 2 years old, sleeping peacefully in a small hammock. I was mesmerized by her beautiful face. She is the great-granddaughter Man Seourn. I felt a magic connection to this precious little one. She took my breath away.
I had no idea that I would continue photographing this child over the next two decades. And I certainly had no idea she would become a CVF scholarship student on her way to graduating and becoming a nurse! Back then, I didn’t believe in miracles. Now I know that anything is possible.
Later, I captured a photo of the Coconut Man holding Alita, the napping baby. Later I learned that he was her father.
NOTE: Years later, when I gave Alita her collection of her missing pictures, she cried when she saw this photo. She said that he was the only man who ever loved her. It is a treasure to her. There were very few pictures of them taken together because there were few cameras in the village. Sadly, Alita’s father passed away when she was 12.
2012 — Alita – The Girl with Attitude
In 2012, we opened our very first school — a milestone for CVF. Amid the celebration, I snapped a photo of a six-year-old girl holding a Coke and a sweet roll. There was something about her expression — confident, cool, self-possessed. I didn’t realize she was the same baby from the hammock.
2014 — Strength Revealed
By 2014, another school opening brought us back again. Village life hummed — children flowing in and out of homes, laughing, climbing, gathering.
And there she was again. My “attitude girl,” always surrounded by her twin brothers.
One afternoon, children gathered quietly on our friend Kosal’s porch. A medical worker was coming to give Alita a shot in her leg after she’d been bitten by something.
She didn’t cry. She didn’t panic. She waited. She was stoic. Brave. Unflinching.
In that moment, I saw her strength.
2015 — Joy
At the dedication of the Siskowic Learning Center, the band played and the children danced and Alita was right in the middle of the action. She had spirit. Leadership. Joy.
2017 — Tragedy
In 2017, we returned to dedicate another school, but instead of celebration, there was tragedy. Alita’s father died suddenly and we attended a Buddhist service for him. There was chanting, incense, mourning and a deep sadness. Alita was 12 years old at the time and did not attend the service.
2024 — The Revelation
In 2024, we returned to Cambodia to open our tenth school and meet the new scholarship students. Alita was one of the girls selected for the CVF Scholarship Program.
We spent a week with the girls, getting to know them. Something tugged at my memory as we revisited old places. Could Alita be the same child we’ve seen over the years?
When I returned back home to the U.S., I searched through 18 years of photographs. And there she was.
The baby in the hammock.
The girl with the Coke.
The brave child on the porch.
The dancer.
The daughter of the Coconut Man.
All along, I had been photographing her — without realizing it.
I gathered the images and emailed them to her. I called them Alita’s Missing Pictures. She immediately responded with delight and said:
“I never knew there was an angel taking pictures of me while I was growing up.”
A New Chapter
Alita joined the CVF Scholarship Program in January 2024 after graduating from Sangke High School.
We visited her mother in the village. Alita had moved away from home and was staying at the dorm in Battambang. They hugged and cried when they saw each other. They really miss each other.
After three semesters at the National University of Battambang, Alita earned a prestigious scholarship to study nursing at the Battambang Regional Training Center for Health. She will finish her studies in 2028.
Cambodia desperately needs nurses — especially compassionate, determined young women like Alita.
When she applied for the CVF scholarship, she wrote:
“It’s a good program for students who don’t have enough money to study at university. A good education will help me escape poverty. With a good job, I can help my sister and brothers pay for their education.”
Because I happened to be Alita’s photographer, I was able to help fill in some of the missing pieces of her life.
But she is only one of many.
There are so many other scholarship girls with similar astonishing stories of courage and perseverance.
And what a joy it is to witness first hand — sometimes without even knowing you are.