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Some time later, I approached the long and narrow where I saw a girl on the end. She was on the right in a line of who were all lying on the bed. I moved towards her slowly, taking in everything as I walked. Her clothes were mismatched. Her lime green shorts and red and navy striped shirt were worn and dirty. I stood in front of this girl, unable to move. As she looked the other way, my eyes traveled frmo her face, down her neck, and saw that her back was curved in a backwards arch. Her eyes, when I finally saw them, were empty. I wondered when someone had touched her last, just for the sake of touching. I reached out my hand to hold hers. The instant my hesitant fingertips touched hers, she quickly took my hand. Her hand was dry and cool. I remember how her fingers did not bend easily, yet I could feel how much she wanted to grasp my own. All I wanted to do was pour out my love upon her. I had gone over there to pray with her. But as my mouth opened, words stuck in my throat. She blindly reached out her other hand, shaking and weak. Without hesitation this time, I took it. Then she turned her head and looked at me. When she looked at me then, I knew that she was aware of me. Right at this moment I could put into expressible words the feelings rising within me. The words "you are so beautiful" poured over and over again out of my mouth. My voice was a faltering whisper. In that moment, she was as beautiful to me as my Julia. I began talking, with my voice breaking every few words. But the words that escaped my lips were not mine. The Lord put these words into my mouth, with which to speak to His precious daughter. He said these words, which I spoke to her, with tears pooling in my eyes. "You are so beautiful. And you are a child of God. The same Christ that is in me is in you. And the same Christ that is in you is in me. In that we are the same. He holds you in the palm of His hand." My voice died upon the cloud of prayer which surrounded the two of us, two daughters of God. Then she smiled. The smile slowly spread across her face, and brought the light of Christ to her small countenance.
I felt love, not pity. There was not one ounce of pity inside me as I stood there, bending over her and holding her hands. You may think this sounds harsh. But pity does not drive one to action. Pity is what you feel during a commercial for an organization showing pictures of emaciated children and asking for donations. Pity says, "Oh, that's too bad. I feel so sorry for those children." Love says something radically different. Love inspires a change of heart. Love says, "I left a piece of my heart in that place and I want to go back. My tears have finally dried, and now I want to help however I can."
I looked at that girl and saw Christ, in a way that one only reads about in books. But why? Why me? Why was I given this incredible experience? God sent me to Jamaica for a reason. I went taking someone else's place. Because of this, I can see that God arranged everything. He wanted me to see how He could make His plan unfold before my unbelieving eyes. I have been given the gift of seeing Him with His own eyes, and speaking His words with my mouth. The idea that Christ was present in the suffering was something that I had thought little about, and generally associated it with Mother Teresa. But by His grace, I have seen His spirit in others, truly understood that He breathed His life into everyone, including the children that I saw. I thank the Lord every day for my time in Jamaica. With that time, he gave me an ardor in my changed heart for being with the children there. I do not tell this story to evoke pity, or guilt for the lack of knowledge about such situations. I want everyone else to see what I saw, and to take from things I said and see Christ's face every time they see someone who is burdened with great suffering. Picture what I saw, and go; see the presence of the Lord in others. |
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