the past three nights, eleven of us took on the night shift at casa jackson, a hospital for malnourished children run by la asociacion nuestros ahijados, in la antigua, guatemala. i went the night before last and helped look after three children: a nine year old girl with muscular dystrophy, a three year old boy, and an infant. each of them look much younger and feel much lighter than their respective cohorts. the patients are fed at two or three-hour intervals throughout the day.
it took lots of funny faces and noises to coax the darling nine year old to eat her food, and honestly, i don’t blame her – her diet was mostly highly fortified milk and green goop that smelled like vegetables. you’d think it’d be great to be fed in bed, each morsel spooned into your mouth for you. but it’s not, especially if you were sleeping; alas, time is of the essence to bring these children up to par.
i didn’t mind as it became an exercise of patience and a small glimpse of how my heavenly Father must feel when He wants to nourish us when we feel less then willing. i loved watching her smile and laugh, as if i were the most hilarious person in the world. at one point, she startled me, perhaps accidentally, which made me and her laugh.
then there was the precious little boy who’d just sit in his crib. he was quite lethargic, but had some energy to play with a toy horse and dinosaur whose tail twirls when you pull the string in its mouth. the defining “awww” moment was when i caught him falling asleep as he was sitting up.
this little guy was very easy to feed and diaper change; he never cried and was so compliant. he’d fall asleep readily and slurp down his milk. when i’d reach down to pick him up and hold him, he was even more ready and willing, and that gave me such pleasure. i wonder if that’s how our Father feels when we welcome His embrace that way.
the other baby was one of those we’d consider “the babiest baby in the world”. big eyes that would just gaze at you. this little princess at first wanted her distance, but later on, after i fed her on my lap – she was somewhere in between the nine year old girl and three year old boy in terms of difficulty – she let me hold her.
then after awhile, she didn’t want to let go. eeek. her itty bitty tiny hands clutched my scrubs as she squealed, “meh mehhhhh~ meh mehhhh~”, to which i found myself responding, “i’m nacho mama, i got to hold the other baby and feed the girl, too”. when i finally put her back, she sat and watched me as i fed the nine-year old, crying out once in a while.
of course, every time i held them, or simply touched them, i’d pray and speak His love over them. during the night one of the doctors made his rounds. i had the chance to tell him about what brought us to guatemala and answer a question or two. he called what we do, “amazing.” it’s funny how easily i’ve forgotten that.
