A six-year-old Rwandan girl reveals a toothless smile in a black and white photograph. The girl is wearing a stained dress. She is barefoot, her left big toe bent upwards, her arms shyly hidden behind her back. On the back of the photo is a number, 675 3319, and her name, poetic as the African night, Nirere.

The photo stands on a desk in the Road Engineer's office in Copenhagen, Denmark. Working at the desk is a 36-year-old childless secretary. She displays the photo of Nirere proudly, explaining to the curious, "That's Nirere, she's my girl."

But, Nirere is not really her child. The woman sponsors Nirere through the Christian Children's Fund's (CCF's) long-distance adoption program. The equivalent of $20 per month provides food, medical assistance and education for Nirere through the CCF's center in Kigali, the capital of the Central African nation of Rwanda.

The photo arrived along with a letter written by Nirere's 11-year-old brother in the official language of Kinyarwanda which had then been translated into English by a CCF worker.

The letter expressed excitement over Nirere's progress at school, her carefree spirit and good health. The sponsor responded, enclosing a photo of herself, her apartment and office. She described the view of the ocean from her 11th floor terrace, the four seasons, including the phenomenom of snow and how Danish children play with it. From 1985 to 1987 letters were exchanged about every two months. The letters from Rwanda became a source of joy for the sponsor who realized that the cost of five packs of cigarettes translated into nutrition for both the body and mind of a young child born into less fortunate circumstances.

The correspondence stopped abruptly in 1987 when the CCF sent a letter stating that Nirere no longer needed the sponsor's help. The organization offered her another child. The sponsor did not act on that offer. A bond had been severed; a new child would not heal that breach.

Then, in 1994, the shock. Tribal war had broken out in Rwanda. A centuries-old hatred between two ethnic groups, the Tutsi and the Hutu, resulted in genocide on the minority Tutsi, who constituted 14 percent of the population, by the Hutu majority that constitutes 84 percent of the population, according to The Cambridge Factfinder (Cambridge University Press, 1993; edited by David Crystal).

Horrific footage of bodies hacked to death flashed on the evening news. Blood of the massacred colored the rivers red. Many children saw their parents die or became separated from them in the aftermath of the apocalyptic events.

The Tutsi rebel army ended the slaughter in 1994, sending hundreds of thousands of Hutus fleeing from Rwanda into Zaire. They spent weeks in a stream of slow-moving humanity, carrying their humble possessions on their heads, on their backs and in their arms. A mattress here, a blanket there and cooking utensils tied to their bodies. There were babies, toddlers, teenagers and adults, most of whom had not participated in the massacre on the Tutsi people but were victimized by their own people.

The United Nations established refugee cammps in Zaire and tried to deal with the overwhelming task of saving the lives of these displaced people suffering from dehydration, diarrhea and dysentery among other debilitating diseases. Weakening them further was the malnutrition that is inevitable when the diet consists of mostly beans and maize flour -- foods much too hard for young children to digest.

The sponsor looked on in horror. She had seen starving people before in Biafra, Ethiopia and Somalia. Some were refugees; others were not. What they had in common was the fact that they were a nameless, faceless masses to the television viewer.

This crisis was different. The sponsor had a photo and an emotional bond to someone with the name Nirere, poetic like the African night. She looked at the photo of Nirere and realized that she was now 15 years old and would be hard to recognize. Had she grown her hair longer? What did she look like with her front teeth grown out? Was she now a teenager with woman-like curves and an alluring Mona Lisa smile? The woman could not help but stare at the television screen hoping to see a familiar face. If Nirere were among the refugees, she would at least still be alive. But the sponsor did not know whether Nirere was a Tutsi or a Hutu. If she were a Tutsi, her young life might have been ended by a machete-swinging Hutu.

The photo of Nirere would come in handy when trying to determine the tribe to which she belonged. James C. McKinley Jr. wrote for the New York Times on Nov. 24, 1996, "The Tutsi, a tall, generally thinner people from the Nile River Valley, have historically made up the ruling elite, while the Hutu, a stockier Bantu people, have made up the working class." Nirere was a tall and thin six-year-old. Therefore, she is most likely a Tutsi. What happened to her?

The Internet was consulted, with e-mail sent and phone calls placed in both the United States and Denmark. The CCF Boernefonden in Denmark informed this reporter that the CCF had ceased operating in Rwanda in 1995 because of the war.

A phone call from "Omar," from Unicef's Manhattan press office is what keeps the sponsor hoping that Nirere will be found. When she was telling him Nirere's story, he just said, "O.K. let me see what I can do. I'll get back to you tomorrow." Tomorrow came and went. Omar did not call. The sponsor settled in to wait it out.

Omar called two days later. He said that Unicef had undertaken the task of photographing the orphaned or unaccompanied children in an effort to make a connection to parents or relatives by posting the pictures at a central location. However, Omar said, Unicef had abandoned the effort. He was very sorry.

In Rwanda, tired men, women and children are still on the move. This time headed the other way from the refugee camps in Zaire. They are headed home. Many will find their homes occupied by Tutsi returning from the exile they had been in since 1959 when the Hutu took power.

Is there a settlement of the conflict in Nirere's future? In McKinnley's words, "Since the Tutsi are only about 15 percent of the population, moving toward democracy would ultimately mean sharing power with the Hutus."

Nirere's picture is standing on another desk now. It still shows a shy little girl with a toothless smile. She is now 17 if she survived the vicious attacks or life as a refugee. May there be peace in Nirere's future.