When Anya, 12, was born with cerebral palsy, her parents argued about whose fault it was. They put her in an orphanage, but grandmother Nina, 70, decided to raise her. Anya's medication is expensive, and Nina is alone, with only a small pension. From left in back, translator Svetlana Abramova explains the medication to ChildLife volunteers Joyce Haskins and Roger Johnson.

FRIAZINO, Russia -- When Anya was born with cerebral palsy, her parents argued for weeks about whose fault it was.

They finally decided it was neither one's fault and took her to an orphanage.

``I was so sorry about this, I decided to take her to my home and take care of her,'' said her grandmother Nina, who is 70.

Now 12, Anya lives with her grandmother in a tiny apartment on the sixth floor of a functional but soulless concrete box of an apartment building. Quad-Cities volunteers from ChildLife International visited them one afternoon in February, bringing small gifts and some badly needed money to buy Anya's medication.

Recent years have been a struggle for Nina, but her home's appearance gave no hint. She ushered her guests into a small but nicely furnished room with a tapestry on the wall and a fuzzy throw over the couch.

Once she started talking about the last 12 years, the Quad-Citians could feel the depth of her despair.

``I tried to make her healthy, but I am alone and there is no one to help me,'' Nina said, through a translator. ``No matter how I tried, she still cannot walk properly. So I've been nursing her for 12 years, can you imagine that? Still there is no result yet.''

Anya sat in her wheelchair, turning her head from side to side to check out the strangers -- and listening to her grandmother.

``I am very proud of myself. I taught my girl to speak properly,'' Nina said, beginning to cry. ``I feel so sorry for her.''

Anya learned to type on a battered manual Cyrillic-font typewriter that Nina showed the guests. She also tries to write by herself, Nina said, but it is very difficult for her.

Quad-Cities volunteers based in Moscow visited several Russian parents and grandparents who care for their disabled children themselves, rather than hand them over to state care.

On every visit, up every flight of concrete stairs, down every darkened hallway, the volunteers found warm, welcoming people struggling bravely in tough financial times with a social system that affords them little help.

There are few support groups for parents of disabled children, and government child-support is practically worthless. Schools will not accept mentally handicapped children, so parents must pay for expensive tutoring or try to teach their children themselves.

The Quad-Citians gave each family a little money to buy medicine, or equipment, or a treat. In return, many families gave the Quad-Citians a small gift -- hand-knitted socks at one stop, a piece of intricate needlework at another.

Perhaps more importantly, though, the Russians' strength gave the visitors a new sense of appreciation for their own lives.

``It's going to change my perspective,'' said Joyce Haskins, of East Moline. ``When I go home to see my grandchildren, I'll know how blessed I am.''