Christophany of the lowly

When I first saw her, Nakosa was a quiet child, easily overlooked and eager to avoid notice.

Nako was hardly friendless -- Mawoole in particular was her partner in silliness and little girl escapades, but there was no denying that she found our presence intimidating. We were loud, expansive intruders into her home, throwing her off her routine, speaking a language she didn't know, possessing items and doing things she couldn't entirely grasp.

New to the House of Blessings since we visited last August, Nako was from Callebasse, literally from next door. She had been living with her aunt, her mother and other relatives, in a house that we stuccoed last summer. At some point during the past year, she made the move into the orphanage while her mother, who is blind, remained with Nako's aunt.

Friday night was bingo night, and the other children played bingo with enthusiasm. Nako, for her part, clearly wanted to, but she had no idea what she was doing. She sat next to me, a bingo card before her, and watched, silent and unsmiling, as everyone around her laughed and joked and placed tokens on their cards.

I noted that she was having difficulty, but it was Joshua who really helped her. He stepped in, sat next to her, and as the game continued, he did everything he could to bridge the language and experience barriers, and helped Nakosa play along. He'd ask me to repeat the numbers in Kreyol so he could say them, and ask Nako if she could find them on her board, guiding her along the way.

That night, after bingo was put away and our team had all gathered around for devotions, I shared with the team what Joshua had done, how he had passed over the older, friendlier girls whom he already shared a rapport with, and let others play with Christina, our little snuggler. Instead, he had focused his time, his effort, and -- most of all -- his attention on the girl who had nothing to naturally draw us to her and, in the process, had shown her the heart of God, directly and powerfully.

I'd like to say that Nako was utterly transformed by her experience with Joshua that night, that the dogged and haunted expression left her completely over the next few days, and that every time we saw her, her faced glowed with the beauty within that was wanting only to be awakened. But she didn't.

I'd love to say that Nako became as constant in our experiences as Christina and Sarah, but she didn't do that either.

What she did do, though, was to become less reserved around us, at least around Joshua and me. She engaged in more word play with us, she let Joshua show her the pictures he had taken of her last year, and she smiled and waved a lot more when she caught us looking at her.

It's not the end of the journey, but it is a good step.

Copyright © 2011 by David Learn. Used with permission.


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