Written by Amanda Phifer

Naomi Lowe never meant to become an adoptive mother when she agreed to coordinate the sponsorship of two Vietnamese refugee families 38 years ago.

Officially, she never did adopt. But try telling that to the children of those families, one of whom drove from Houston, Texas, to Florence, S.C., recently simply to say thank you in person.

Tu, the father of one of those families, passed away at the end of August. Just before he died, he instructed his youngest son, Q*, to return to Florence within 30 days of the funeral to thank Lowe in person. Not by phone, not by letter or email, but face to face.

So the first week of September found Q back in Florence, where he had arrived as a child from Vietnam in 1975, and at the home of the woman who took his family and another under her wings in the days before “refugee resettlement” became a trendy ministry.

“Our association had never sponsored a family before that I know of,” said Lowe, who at the time was a member of First Baptist Church, Florence. “And most of the refugees were sponsored by Catholics because it was a Catholic organization coordinating everything. But they had so many, they extended the invitation to others, and we agreed to take on two families.”

Sponsors were charged with providing food, transportation and clothing, and furnished shelter and overall assistance with navigating American life and culture (getting a driver’s license, enrolling children in school, learning English, securing a job, and eventually becoming self-sustaining U.S. citizens).

Lowe said everything for the refugees was donated: furniture, clothing, food, vehicles — even the money for rent. (The 1975 Book of Reports for Florence Baptist Association notes that $1,000 came from the association, and numerous items came from member churches.)

Within about a year, all of the families were self-sustaining. The children were all in school, and the parents were working. And as soon as they were able, they repaid the cost of their plane tickets. In fact, in the early 1990s, the association received a check for $200. The ministry assistant could not figure out who it was from or what it was for until she investigated and learned it was one last payment from the Vietnamese family.

Q explained: “My father told my brothers at the dinner table, ‘Debt is debt. Gift is gift. But the two are the same. When you have time, you pay them back or you pay forward. Pay back whenever you can.'”

Q was 10 years old when his family arrived in Florence and remembers enough of his five years there that he and his wife would like to retire there. He calls it “the real America, not like the big city of Houston.” He follows Florence local news weekly.

Recalling the first few days and months in Florence, he still sounds overwhelmed at the care and attention his family received.

“I remember being at the airport, and there was this line of people, all from the Baptist church, and they hugged me, one after another down the line, like 15 people. I guess because I was a kid.”

Two days later, a volunteer took him to the mall to outfit him with clothes for school, and when he requested a football, she naturally gave him an American football, not knowing he meant a soccer ball.

“I would pay a lot of money now to see the look on my face when she gave me that,” laughs Q. “I was grateful but very puzzled how to play with that strange soccer ball.”

The three Vietnamese families who relocated to Florence all attended a Catholic church and school, though the two who had been adopted by Florence Association went to First Baptist Church, Florence, on Wednesday nights for English class.

“Mother told us to respect our sponsors and helpers,” said Q, “so we went and participated and prayed with them, though I have to admit I was primarily interested in playing with toys and going skating afterwards with the other kids. It was 25 cents for two hours of skating.”

But the time among believers had a long-term impact: Q says he is involved with his local Catholic congregation in Houston because “I’ve got to have faith doing what I do, got to have someone to believe in.”

He says this truth hit him his first Christmas in Florence, when his family attended First Baptist, Florence, and his father was asked to speak to the congregation on behalf of the family.

“I realized, all these people really believe in this. And that changed me.”

The impact on Lowe was long-term, as well. She and the two families have remained in close contact for nearly four decades, visiting one another regularly even after the families moved to Texas. For years she received Mother’s Day cards from the children.

“Our own children were friends with their children,” she said. “We did so much together — sailing, the lake, cooking in our kitchen and theirs, meals, holidays, everything. The first Thanksgiving they brought us a fully roasted whole turkey!” She added, smiling, “I never told them the giblets were still in it!”

“It was God working through me,” Lowe says simply.

“Mr. and Mrs. Lowe are truly disciples of God,” Q said. “They did so much for us and asked nothing in return. We cannot forget who helped us and not say thank you. That’s why I came to Florence.”

*Q’s name is initialized to protect his identity as an employee of the city of Houston.