I have just lost a portion of my heart. But, I know she was just
lent to me for a while. She always was God's child. She truly belonged to Him.
You could never forget that. Her wide,
ever present smile, even during periods of unending, acute pain and nausea. The
inability to enjoy tasty food due to an ever present case of diabolical
thrush. The look of exhaustion that
would send her into my arms, while her peers scream with laughter. This little
girl represented the suffering of Christ. A victim of this cruel world. Years
ago, this tiny little body had been the object of some grown males perverted
lust. She was given more than counselling
and a teddy bear when she was rescued.
She left the clinic with a diagnosis of being positive with H.I.V. You know the strain from Sub Saharan Africa.
The deadly kind that is seldom successfully treated with anti-retroviral medication. But, Jesus Christ never promised anyone of us
life would be fair. This little girl is
a growing statistic in Africa where the belief that sex with a virgin is the
cure for H.I.V. The mere thought of a
grown man sexually abusing a small, fragile child is horrific. But, in the minds
the uneducated, whose brains have been consistently starved from lack of proper
nurturing and bodies rife with toxins, it appears a very feasible cure.
How do you change a belief such as this? Only the Holy Spirit can
shine His Light into a darkened heart.
Until He does, we are surrounded by mewling, crawling, tiny
victims.
Little One, I will never, ever forget your obsessive love for the
Bambi story. How you loved to put your
emaciated fingers through my hair as you tried to give me dreadlocks. Your
beloved, fluffy dog that now sits in my room to remind myself of what true
suffering is. I miss seeing your
ridiculously tiny clothes and shoes.
Your clinic card said that you were a seven year old failing to Thrive. Now,
you are safe in the very warm, understanding arms of a Christ that sees and
knows all, and you are definitely thriving.
You taught me about bravery, perseverance and love. Until the day I die I will never, ever forget
you. You were a gift from God. You were
born to suffer and die. Things have improved. They had to. You are now living
life in all its abundance and fullness. I know when I cry, it will be because
of the evilness of mankind and the beauty and promise of a new tomorrow. I adore you oh Little One.
Love Momma Julia
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