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?