I'm also doing this for Her. She sits alone in the Union. Goes to the dining hall and eats alone, even though everyone notices when she enters...She reads constantly, loosing herself within the pages. Between the lines she becomes people she could "never" be. People that aren't even friends with her. It's just like her childhood-she thought college would be different. She moved here and there, little friends and little fun. An unhappy childhood led to an unhealthy lifestyle. Overcome by health issues, she moved to a state with health insurance. She works hard at her academics and wants to be a professor to "pay back" the state that gave her insurance. I walk by her, smile and go on my way. Within a few seconds I find myself RUNNING back to the chair where she sits. I sit down next to her, introduce myself and ask her to tell me about her life. 45 minutes later I find myself knowing the depths of Jenny's heart. Such pain. But so much Hope. So much Beauty. Dreams of writing memoirs and novels. Books upon books. Dreams of teaching and sharing her thoughts, dreams of finally being listened to...even if it means nothing to the lecture hall sitting in front of her. I tell my story and encourage her in her future. I see her shining...someone listened and finally felt Love towards her. I do this for her. To see her share her thoughts and views, her story. To see her face light up and know that Hope is real! To see her filled with Joy. To see her Alive. To see her live the life that she should be living at her age. To have slumber parties, chats over coffee, and to watch movies-with someone else, not sitting alone...I do this for her. To see her smile and live her life knowing that she is believed in, and that she is Loved. And that she has something to believe in....
I'm also doing this for her...the girl with the big brown eyes. Her soft, delicate features clash with the emptiness of her eyes. Eyes that show pain. Pain felt physically, emotionally, and mentally-more than any child or person should know. Ill in body-but dead in spirit. I touch her softly, a kind of touch she's never felt before. I tell her of Freedom, Joy, Dancing, Love. I tell her to Hope. I stand in front of her adversaries-claiming her life, that it doesn't belong to them. That they have no right to her life and that they lost the battle years ago...I hold her hand and stand in front of her.
Now there are more...bed after bed they lay. Malnourished and naked. Empty faces. I go up stairway after stairway and see rows of beds. I look at the people who have allowed this-people of power. "this is inhumane". I pick up child after child and walk with them down the stairs. The children walk past the people who once hit them, electrocuted them, and worse...As they look around their new surroundings and see their prisons disappear--Hope arises. Their faces come alive. They smile...for some-the very first time.
Intense Love heals the spiritual wounds, while surgeries and food heal them physically. A few year later, that girl who I grabbed is no longer the girl with empty eyes-she is known by name, character and laugh. She sings. And oh, you should see her dance! especially in the pink dress with the ruffled sleeves. Around and around she spins.
But, she is not alone. 2.5 million children from all over the world join her, dressed in their best. Laughing and spinning. Boys are battling at hip-hop. A circle of shy girls smile and grab my hand as I come to them. I move from child to child making them each feel noticed and loved.
But I myself am lost in love. Spinning around and around in my tank top and capris looking up to the one who saved me. I tell my children about this great Man and how everything He did for me, He did just for them...they begin to look past me and see Him and only Him. New children enter the circle and older ones dance away to share their moves and stories elsewhere...and I am still found in the center of the circle with them around me twirling around and around beaming with love for the one who took my hand and stood for me.
and that's why.