Through the eyes of a child….

It’s hard to believe, but we’ve reached our final assignment for Compassion Bloggers month. With 2,006 sponsorships I would say that the initiative has been a success. However we still need 1,102 to make our goal. This weeks assignment is to write a letter to “imagine you’ve switched places with your sponsored child and write about the shock, stress and adjustments you have to make.” This is a tough one. I wasn’t quite sure how to put my thoughts into intelligible sentences.

I thought back to my trip to Honduras.

I remembered the children I had met there.  And though we spoke different languages, it was as if I could read their thoughts by looking into their eyes…

Hello!  You look different than I do.  Your skin, your hair, your eyes.  I don’t know you, yet I’ve seen you before.  You smile at me with big white teeth.  You bend down to see me and you often open your arms wide for a hug.  You speak words that I do not understand, but I know you care.  Often times you offer me a small gift.  It makes me happy.  I smile and I want to share it with my friends.

I see something else in your eyes.  Behind the sparkle, there is something else.  Almost like a sadness, but your mouth is not frowning.  I’m not sure why you’re sad, but I notice.  You see, this is my world.  The only world I know.  I have happiness.  I have friends.  I have a stick.  I have a place to sleep.  Often times I feel hungry, but if I am patient and wait, the hunger will leave for a little bit.  I don’t have a backpack like you, but I have two feet that can run and play.  I don’t have shoes, but many people I know do not either.

I have a family.  My brothers and sisters like to play with me.  They smile too.  But I don’t see many grown-ups that smile like you.  Many adults seem sad, and their eyes don’t sparkle.  They act like I do when I’ve been running around all day, like they’re tired.  They smile when I smile at them, and then they stop.

Some people talk about God.  I’m not sure what they are saying, but when I look at the sunrise and sunset, when I look at the mountains and the trees, I think I see Him.  I think He follows me.  He makes me feel safe.  And I think He loves me.  When I see your blue eyes sparkle, I think that maybe God has those same sky-blue eyes.  You hug me and I think that maybe God is hugging me.  It’s strange because I don’t know your words, but I know, for some reason, you care.

My Mom tells me that I’m talented, that I have something called potential.  She looks at me with love, and then the sadness takes over.  I think she wants to give me something but for some reason she can’t.  Sometimes she gets mad and throws a pot, and then we go to bed without food.  Sometimes I stare at a paper with words and wish I could read them.  Sometimes I think that there is something more for me to do, but I’m not sure what that would be.

Can you help me?  Look at my eyes, can you see?

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