I do not like hospitals. So when were told that we would be spending every Tuesday and Thursday at the local hospital in Antigua, I wasn’t exactly thrilled. We were told that we would be holding and feeding malnourished babies so I had mentally prepared myself for that activity. I had actually talked myself into believing that it would be an easy way to serve.
And today was far from easy.
After completing our paperwork and touring the facility, we were told that the hospital was not accepting any more volunteers in the malnourished babies wing. We were asked to serve on the first floor and I froze.
I had expected to see sickness. I had expected to see the forlorn faces of patients waiting to be healed. I did not expect to see hundreds of cerebral palsy and mentally disabled patients, the first floor patients, and I certainly didn’t expect to spend the entire morning with them.
So after hearing the change of plan, I smiled to mask my fear and reluctance and headed towards the wing where the patients under 20 years of age reside.
I can’t recall a time that I have felt so helpless. There were over 70 cerebral palsy patients in this wing, most all of them severe cases, and only seven of us. They lined the walls of the courtyard in their specialty wheelchairs and cried out in their own special language. We didn’t know where to begin. Leslie, an amazing English woman who has been volunteering at the hospital for 22 years, called out, “Just pick one to play with. Look around. You’ll make eye contact with one of them and they’ll choose you.”
I immediately looked toward the ground. I wasn’t ready for one of them to choose me. As I stalled, a Vacation Bible School song popped into my head. Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world . . . they are precious in His sight, Jesus loves the little children of the world. And with new resolve to love on all the children of the world through His eyes, I found the courage to look up and locked eyes with Larz.
I spent the first hour wheeling Larz around the courtyard. He kept pointing his arm in the direction he wanted to go and would giggle when I pushed him fast. When we stopped to take a break, I stared in his eyes and the only words I could find to say to him were, “You are loved.” I whispered this phrase to him over and over again, speaking truth in Christ and realizing I was starting to believe it myself.
Roberto became my friend for the second hour. I scratched his back and got him to smile. I scratched a little more and got him to laugh. His eyes lit up and his head rolled back and at that moment he stole my heart. I didn’t want to leave his side. As we prepared to go, he grabbed my arm and pulled it towards him. He then planted the sweetest kiss on my hand and marked it with a trail of drool. I grinned and didn’t wipe it off immediately. I had been kissed by an angel. And I can’t wait to spend more time with these precious forgotten kids.
“People were bringing little children to Jesus to have him touch them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” Mark 10:13-14
