Hope & Healing

She stands a mere 3 feet tall, one would have to crouch to see her chocolate brown eyes. She waits in line holding her mother' s hand. She looks toward the ground with empty eyes, rejection is far too common; hope a forgotten option. I see her enter the screening tent on the dock. Her world is about to change. The two exit the screening tent and the little girl waddles back and forth behind her mama, whose step is a thousand pounds lighter already. The two walk the gangway entering a world where hope is tangible and healing abundant. She swaggers onto the ward, pigeon toed, with her legs so rotated her knee caps are almost chaffing one another. For this nine year old, running, jumping, skipping, and swimming are not an option. Her movement is almost monkey like because her arms have grown normally and they are close to dragging on the ground. She is young, but not naive, knowing the cruelness of the world and a what it is like to live a life of ridicule, as one "forgotten." Two days have passed and this little one sits in bed with bright red and blue casts covering her thighs, knees, and toes. Her feet are propped up on pillows and the nurses run about bringing her ice and pain medicine. She stares at her legs not knowing what exactly has happened. Happiness and hope have been suppressed for so long, it is like digging a well to get her to smile. I wave at her from across the room and acquire her attention. She stares at me. I smile and come closer. She stares at her feet. I sit next to her and smile. Nothing.... I ask how she is. Nothing.... I find a container of Play-Dough and start squishing the green dough in my hands. I mold a small little girl with two casts, feet on pillows, and sitting in bed. I put the little figure next to my friend. She stares at it and stares at me. Nothing... I add small ice packs (Play-Dough circles) to put on top of the little legs. Nothing... I put little squiggles (braids) of dough on top of the miniature girl's head. My friend then looks at me and a smile creeps across her lips. The girl's mama starts laughing and smiling. I cannot help but smile as I keep adding accessories to my Play-Dough creation. The IV tubing and hospital gown add the perfect touch. My new friend looks at me with a grin spanning ear to ear. I reach for her hand, but tickle her instead. Laughter erupts from her lips. She giggles and giggles as she sits side by side with her smaller Play-Dough clone. In a few days she will learn to walk with crutches, then on her own. Soon she will be running, jumping, and skipping. She will be taller, able to grow, and happier. All because she entered a world where Christ's hope is tangible and His healing is abundant.