In Vietnam, we had the opportunity to visit both a Buddhist and Catholic elderly home. It wasn't much of a home if you ask me.
It was the kind of building that leaves you feeling hopeless and gives you a headache from burning incense and other unidentifiable smells.
The women in both homes lived in a shared room and spent most of their time sitting on a small bed that also served as a toilet.
They had no family to visit them, no money and rarely any visitors.
My friend Vy and I walked into the Buddhist home and a woman held our hands and gave us advice similar to my grandparents' advice.
Don't take drinks from strangers, especially men. Don't do drugs it will ruin your life. Save your money. Take care of your parents. Find a boyfriend. And then she repeated it so we wouldn't leave.
She kept talking, telling us that people come to this home and take pictures of them and give gifts, but no one spends time to talk with her.
She said they look at her body, but they never look into her soul when they speak to her.
She held our hands so tightly and her frail, bony fingers squeezed ours as she poured her heart out to us as we sat and listened, simply telling her that we loved her and appreciated her story.
After an hour of talking she looked up, with a small tear rolling down her cheek, and told us everyday she sits on her bed and waits to die.
She then quickly changed her tone, telling us how happy it makes her when we sit with her. She reminded us to find husbands again and after we hugged her and told her we loved her, we walked away.
I knew our conversation was different from the tears streaming down her cheek. Caressing every line and wrinkle on her face reminding me that her story and her soul hold so many more thoughts than can be translated in an hour.
With Vietnam being a closed country we weren't able to pray for her, but she saw our love for her as we spoke to her heart and had compassion for her weak state.
I know in that moment Vy and I experienced true love, because when we left the room, Vy pulled me aside and asked me questions about love. About the levels of love that she knows exist, but hasn't felt yet. Not for her friends, or her family, or her boyfriend, but she knows it's there. And she asked me if I've ever felt anything like it.
So I told her how I found the kind of Love that can change your life and she looked thoughtfully for a second and told me that she couldn't wait to experience a love that takes over her whole heart.
And I know that in that home, two people experienced His love in a new way.
In shared tears that reflected changing hearts.
In our hands intertwined with an elderly woman's, acknowledging that she was loved and appreciated.
And in our eyes that looked deeper than her body and saw her precious soul.
