Orphanage Visit

I just polished off a Granny Smith apple straight from the bottom of the barrel of Washington's fruits (it was teeny and not too shiny green) and I am buckling down to do some homework (not too much, but it makes my brain think real hard). I think of interesting tidbits to put on my blog all the time, but never have the time for it or when I do I don't want to sit for another thirty minutes typing away and surfing the internet and so the homework is pushed aside. But today something important happened that is worthy of putting off homework another twenty minutes.

I went with some Danish students and a few friends from school to the orphanage that is a ten-minute walk from Cuauhnahuac today. We were akwardly introduced to a small group of kiddos who were between twelve and sixteen-years-old. After the random intros, some of the students settled into a game of barefooted soccer (of course) with a few "orphans".

I found myself sitting next to a young girl, who said she was fourteen or fifteen, I don't remember, but she looked about eleven. Ana Karen shyly and rapidly talked to me and I frequently had to ask her to repeat herself or just go without comprehending her statements because she spoke so unclearly in her shyness. I asked the simple question, "Como estas?" expecting a typical, superficial answer. Ana Karen told me about how she is "triste" (sad) because she has been in the orphanage for three months and her parents haven't visited her at all. She and I chatted about how her heart was sad, but I thought maybe she was trying to have fun with her friends in the orphanage so her life wouldn't be sad. She proceeded to show me dozens of drawings of hearts with smiley faces and many large tears dropping down the heart's cheeks. I was also privileged to read a multitude of letters she had written to her parents and hoped to have her older brother deliver to them if he came to visit soon. Her pain was so real and innocent.

Ana Karen in the orphanage playground.

My heart was crying many large tears too. I told her I would pray for her and that when I am sad I cry too, but that I also do things that bring a smile to my face and I pray because Jesus loves me which I can always remember. When I said I would pray for her as I ran out the gates with a guard standing by she smiled shyly and gave me a big wet kiss on the cheek.

Oh, Jesus. You love Your little children more than we can communicate to them. I pray dear children such as Ana Karen can find peace, hope, love, and joy in their hearts when they learn this information and truly know it in all the corners of their hearts. I am praying for Ana Karen, but I also hope to go back and visit to build more of a relationship with her and remind her that people and Jesus care for her and her sweet, sad heart even if her mom and dad cannot visit her.

What gets me the most is that I came to Mexico totally relishing the idea to break emotionally and spiritually from the burden of therapy with children whose lives are tragically marred by abuse, neglect, and tragedy. But, Jesus reminded me that counseling is not work for me--it is my heart; my heart that longs to bring a hope and a peace and a love and joy to children and other people who do not have it. A hope, peace, love, and joy that are so great they can only come from Jesus. Looks like I might be spending some time making little Mexican friends. My heart smiles for this. Jesus give me strength and wisdom.

1) Michele, Sarah (friends from school), and me eating some McDonald's soft serve cones. Um, hello...where is the wafer cone?

2) An iguana sunning on a tree outside our classroom. They usually run back and forth on the roof of our classrooms.

3) My bedroom.