Not Always Easy

Crystille was the first 2-3 year-old that took to me right away at Maranatha, we played a game where she pokes or tries to tickle me before I can tickle her; we'd both end up laughing and when our sides (or at least mine) were about to burst she'd crawl up in my lap and play with my necklace, giggling and making up new little games. She's full of sassyness, giggles, cuteness and as all children do, completely stole my heart.

I looked forward to her laughter and little games over the next week and a half but at the end of my second week I noticed she'd been acting strange, kind of quiet and than she would perk back up but than calm down again. That day I wasn't with her class at all but she came to me right before assembly in the afternoon and she was burning up! We gave her some child tylenol and I headed back into assembly with her cuddled in my arms. As I sat there with her sitting on my lap facing me, she began to perk up again and was playing with my necklace and laughing, but it wasn't her usual laugh, it sounded almost forced. I was confused. I asked God for wisdom and the answer I received was a simple "ask". "Crystille? Ou tete malad?" (Your head hurt?) she stopped immediately and looked me right in the eye, I felt as if she was seeing whether I honestly wanted to know; kind of like when someone asks me "How are you?" and I tend to go with the short version of "I'm good" because most people (not all!) are not really asking and wanting the story of the past day or week. I asked her again if her head hurt and all of that fake bubblyness fell away and she looked like she was about to burst into tears "Vini, kouche" (Come, lie down) I said patting my shoulder. It was like she'd been trying to be ok, but when I gave her "permission" to not be she slunk against me as I began to rock her gently side to side.

By the time the children had finished singing and Mr. Byron came in to tell us the Bible story for the day, she was fast asleep, but it was a feverish sleep. She was sweaty and would fidget and give a soft cry every so often. When assembly was over I stood up and carried he outside to wait for someone to come pick her up. I sat there for a time, rocking, praying and singing over her limp & sweaty little body. Her face was tilted up at mine and a thought floated through my head "How are you going to give her up?" followed by a bucket load more soon after "Will she be ok if she leaves? Will she take the medicine? Where do they live? Is there something I can do?" I sat there worrying and continuing to pray and sing.

In time her mother came to pick her up, one of the teachers I think read my face like a book, "Its alright" she said comfortingly as she lifted the sleeping child from my arms. I watched as she was handed through the gate into the arms of her mother. But, I saw another set of arms carrying her away, they were His arms and I knew that He was going to take care of her because our God is not bound to the preschool grounds, or lives in a different country. I didn't put Him in my suitcase & bring Him with me because He is here, He has always been here just like He is there with you now wherever in the world you are because He is everywhere and with everyone every single minute of every single day and in that I found/find peace as I watched her go down the dusty road home.

I waited anxiously for 17 days to see her sweet face again, I knew God would take care of her but what can I say, I live up to my name and every day I hoped to see her walk through the tall gates. In that time I learned that she had been taken to the hospital (in Haiti that means that she visited the Dr's office, she was not admitted) and my prayers became a little more frequent. Monday when she didn't arrive the usual rock didn't settle in my stomach, for some reason I felt very at peace and I wasn't sure why; until today that is.

We'd called for clean-up were sitting the kids down to breakfast; I greeted two girls that had walked in a little late and as I turned to go inside for plates I noticed a little figure coming around the gate and towards the gazebo "Crystille?!" I wasn't sure I was seeing right, "Crystille!" I swooped her up and hugged her close, tears threatened my eyes as Fi Fi (one of the teachers) began to chant her name and clap with the kids; we were all thrilled to see God answer our prayers by healing her and bringing her back to us.

She was a little quiet at first and wouldn't let me put her down but after starting our little tickle game her old spunky self came back and I got to hear that giggle I've been missing. Maranatha provides two meals a day, vitamens and two healthy snacks for the children, they are a non-profit organization & the development, care and love that flows from this place really is incredible to see and to be a part of.

It's hard to send kids home, not knowing or knowing what they are going home to, but  God continually reminds me that worrying is not healthy or from Him and that He holds each child in His caring hands. Such a lovely thing!

Messi Jesus!
(Thank you Jesus!)

P.S I have a request that will be coming up this weekend for you guys, so keep following and checking back :)