Living in a small gypsy village settled amidst the rolling
hills of Romania, I’ve had a job picking apples, charaded my way through
conversation, and spent hours picking grapes off the vines that fill the
village. Walking to my ministry location for the day, horse buggies clack down
the street next to me as scarved gypsy women nod and blow kisses from their
frequented benches. It’s one of those moments where you shake your head, close
your eyes, and are almost surprised to open them again and find that this small
village is your present reality.
Welcome to Ville Tecii, Romania. 
My team of 5 readjusts to our ninth month overseas, as we
familiarize ourselves with gypsy lingo, the long drop and mixing cement. It’s
no longer a surprise that plumbing and warm showers are a luxury 2 months from
our grasp, as we’ve grown accustomed to the “norm” everywhere else in the
world.
Wading through the scent of honeysuckle and horse manure, I
jump across an open sewage line, hold my breath, and grab a hold of the rusty
fence outside the house I’ve frequented all week. Before my feet hit the dirt
on the front walkway however, a 4 year old little boy graces the front steps.
He screams my name and bolts towards me as fast as his little legs will carry
him, leaping fearlessly into my arms.
I’ve grown accustomed to this warm greeting with my new
Romanian friend. His name is Feli
and he’s a 4-year-old gypsy who loves soccer, riding his bike, and playing with
his 2 cousins. His 16-year-old brother and his brother’s girlfriend seem to care
for him while his mother works in the orchard all day. Food is scarce and the
house is falling apart. I practically have to play hopscotch across their
living room floor when I visit or I’ll slide right through the gaping holes in
the floorboards.
Feli and I spend hours together working on his bike, flipping
through picture books, and playing soccer with all of his friends. We pick
apples when its time for a snack and sit on the lumber in the soccer field when
it’s time for a break. Our time together is simple. We don’t have detailed
discussions about life, avoid each other because we can’t communicate, or watch
television to pass the time. We
just play together. That’s enough.
Traveling the world can be frustrating sometimes as you surround
yourself with people of different nations, languages, and backgrounds. You want
to know the people you’re with, you want to know their story and details about
their lives. When that communication barrier exists, its easy to just opt for a
day with the Americans. It’s easier, but choosing the easy road this year would
have robbed me of so many precious relationships. I’ve loved so many people all
around the world because I’ve trusted in the Lord to offer different venues of
communication. He certainly has
provided too. In Asia, it was hand signals. In Africa, I had smiles, and in
Eastern Europe, laughter was all the conversation we needed.
pushing through the barrier was well worth the relationship. No words were
necessary, but laughter, hugs, and the Lord allowed an American woman to let a
Romanian gypsy child know how special he was.
