Hidden in a labyrinthine network of streets and alleys, in the heart of a humble inner-city suburb, the Mai Tam House of Hope welcomes abandoned and troubled children mothers infected with HIV/AIDS. From the outside, the House of Hope was no different from any other tall, narrow house in Ho Chi Minh City, aside from the two distinctive red ribbons at the entrance. When I first went, Father John introduced us to the children: they were among the most energetic children I had ever met but, at the same time, among the most vulnerable in the world. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay Visiting the house changed my life as it allowed me to understand the gravity of the situation, especially the extent to which even children are discriminated against. It was heartbreaking to meet children who knew little about what it means to be a child, what it means to lead a normal life. In Mai Tam, Father John introduced me to Đạt: an enthusiastic, cheerful and full of life boy. As I watched him play, I would never have imagined that, after seeing his hearty laugh and beaming smile, he had been abandoned as a child and continued to be isolated in his own community. Like the other 6,800 children in Vietnam living with HIV/AIDS, Đạt faces medical, social and emotional challenges on a daily basis. Imagine being feared and rejected by all the kids at school as a child, even though you didn't. something wrong. Imagine yourself, as a child, walking to the park where strangers begin fiercely waving their arms at you, telling you to go away and take the virus with you. Imagine being demonized and portrayed as a social deviant by your own government as a child and being kicked out of your home because of something you had no power over. The misconception that infection can spread through casual contact persists, leading people in Vietnam to take unnecessary and stigmatizing actions. For these children, the condition is more than just an infection, but rather a constant reminder of discrimination, hardship and grief. they have resisted since birth. When Mai Tam first opened its doors in 2005, HIV was a death sentence. Treatment was limited, especially in developing countries, and stigma prevented vulnerable people from seeking help. But, in the years that I have worked with Mai Tam, I have witnessed the advancements made in helping children in Vietnam with the physical and mental complications of HIV, all thanks to Father John and his team. Progress has been made in preventing transmission; testing availability has increased; access to care in Vietnam is greater than ever. When the HIV epidemic peaked in the early 2000s, no one would have thought that in just a decade, HIV-positive people would be able to live healthy, fulfilling lives. However, as people living with HIV are living longer, we no longer see this as urgent as it once was. We risk complacency and, therefore, risk the digression of funding and commitment to help overcome this epidemic. But what makes Mai Tam exceptional? Mai Tam is love in action. Since its founding, the Mai Tam team has done nothing but show love to those who have been denied compassion in their own homes. As the only facility of its kind in Ho Chi Minh City, they strive to empower children and mothers infected with HIV/AIDS through creating an environment where they can share their stories and, for the first time, not be treated with contempt. Over 500 residents have access to healthcare and?