When baby Kirillos was born in Baghdad, Iraq, on July 5, 2006, the joy of his parents turned to concern when Faris and Vivian were told that their son was born with a rare heart defect known as Tetralogy of Fallot. The condition is serious. Unless the patient’s heart is completely overhauled, 75 percent of children born with the condition do not survive beyond age four. Unfortunately, the surgery is not available in Iraq.

The couple appealed to Christian churches in Baghdad, visited embassies and international relief agencies, and although they’re members of Iraq’s once sizable — but now decimated — Assyrian Christian minority, solicited help from Muslin mosques. The answer was always the same. “We’d like to help you, but we can’t.”

In desperation, Faris and Vivian posted a notice on a website highlighting the problems of Iraq’s persecuted Christian minority.

The first miracle came when Samir Johna, M.D., a former Iraqi Army soldier from Abu Ghraib, read their story on the internet. In addition to his responsibilities as a general surgeon at Loma Linda University Medical Center and associate professor of surgery at LLU School of Medicine, Johna volunteers as medical director for the Assyrian Aid Society of America.

As he read the couple’s plea, Johna knew he had to get involved. After verifying that their story was legitimate, he compiled a list of medical facilities capable of performing the procedure baby Kirillos needed. Loma Linda University Medical Center sat at the top of the list.

“I called the global outreach program at Loma Linda,” he explains, “and told Dr. Walter Johnson about baby Kirillos.”

“I can’t say enough about Dr. Johnson and his associates at global outreach,” Johna continues. “A few days later, he called back and said to get baby Kirillos over here as fast as possible.”

Faris and Vivian were overjoyed when they heard the news! However, because of murderous anti-American sentiment in parts of Iraq, the couple told friends the procedure would take place in India. And although he desperately wanted to go, Faris stayed in Iraq to dispel suspicion.

Johna petitioned the leaders of the Assyrian Aid Society of America for assistance with Vivian and Kirillos. After warning them not to discuss the case outside the society’s boardroom, he asked if the society would pay the transportation and lodging expenses for the mother and child.

Thanks to the generosity of the Society, Vivian and Kirillos now had round-trip tickets to “India,” and Vivian would have a place to stay until they returned.

Next, Johna tackled a new problem. The American Embassy would not authorize baby Kirillos to enter the United States unless Johna produced a letter from Loma Linda University Children’s Hospital stating it would pay for the care Kirillos would need. They reminded him that U.S. immigration policy would not allow the baby and his mother to remain in the United States once the treatment was concluded.

Once again, Johna contacted Walter Johnson at the global outreach program. Would Loma Linda University be willing to put their commitment to baby Kirillos in writing?

In a few short hours, the vital document arrived at the embassy. It estimated the cost of the care $218,000. And yes, LLUMC would pick up the tab — no strings attached. A few days after that, the embassy told Johna that the documents were ready. He immediately contacted Vivian with the news.

As Faris said goodbye to Vivian and his son, he knew enormous risks were involved and that there was a chance he may never see his wife or child again.

On the morning of Aug. 15, 2007, Dr. Leonard L. Bailey — the celebrated infant heart transplant pioneer of Loma Linda University Children’s Hospital — opened the wall on baby Kirillos’ chest and began the delicate operation to repair not one, but four separate problems inside the tiny heart.

As the compassionate physician and his skilled team corrected the defects, blood began to flow freely throughout the baby’s heart for the first time in his life. Relief swept through the waiting room as Bailey announced that the operation was a success.

Shadows soon began to form, however, in the weeks following the operation. First, Vivian got an e-mail from a Muslim neighbor in Iraq asking how she liked the United States. Despite all the secrecy surrounding her destination, word had somehow leaked out on the street. To save her husband’s life, Vivian did not respond.

Next, Faris was visited at home by the insurgents. Their mandate was simple and clear: “Your wife and baby have gone to America. If we find you here the next time we return, we will cut off your head!”

That night, Faris packed his bags and fled across the desert to Syria.

Once Vivian learned that Faris was safe, a new cloud of anxieties began to form. Where would she and baby Kirillos go once Oct. 22, 2007 — the deadline mandated on her visa as the day for them to return to Iraq — arrived? That was less than a month away. She couldn’t stay in the United States, and she couldn’t return to Iraq. Prospects were equally bleak in Syria. All she could do was pray.

“Please, God,” she pleaded. “You saved my son’s life! Now bring us to a land where we can live in safety and freedom!”

This time, God acted through a relief organization in Canada. Less than three weeks before the deadline, Vivian and Kirillos received an invitation to visit that country and apply for permission to emigrate. Faris, though still in Syria, plans to join them soon.