I’m awake. I can’t sleep. It’s the gift of memory that keeps me tossing.
I remember . . .
Her precious face. She is so young and full of smiles. I wondered how that could be as everything around her is trash. The Guatemala City Dump to be exact. The stench. The mess. The birds. The dogs. A place that took my breath away is her home.
And the Potter’s House. In the middle of what seemed like hopelessness, there was a ray of sunshine. This small school where I saw her precious face. A school that feeds nutritious meals, educates, and speaks of Jesus. No wonder she could smile.
I wonder . . .
How was her day at school today? Did she return to a loving family?
Where is she sleeping tonight? Is she warm?
Did her mom find enough work there in the Dump Community to sustain them for another day?
What my life would be like if I had not gone and met her?
When I will get to go back?
Would you want to come too?
Linking up with a community or writers over at Lisa-Jo Baker’s today. We’re writing about remember in five-short minutes.