After two weeks of summer camp in Croatia, the red team has returned to Mostar, Bosnia. We were working with Misssions without Borders, trying to help with their annual summer camps for young kids in Bosnia. Every year they take two bus loads of kids to an island, Obonjan Island, which when translated means “Young Island.” There is plenty of swimming, dancing, running, and fun. For many of these kids, it’s the one chance during the year to get three square meals a day, have somebody lovingly pat them on the back, and live a carefree life of a 12-year-old. This week I feel in love with a little girl. This is her story. This is the story about how she broke my heart. It’s straight from my personal journal, where I wrote it down when she got on the boat and left.
Saturday, July 18th, 2006 – Young Island Croatia
Today, I got my very first brokenheart. It didn’t come by the hands of some boy, but a sweet 9-year-old girl named Ivana. Since arriving at camp, I’ve noticed her. Tiny, quiet, and shy, Ivana tucks away in every crowd. But, I’ve seen her. She’s got the cutest silky black hair, bushy little eyebrows over the darkest brown eyes, and a squishy nose. It’s just cute, really.
Nikolina, my new friend and co-volunteer, lives near her and told me that she comes from a bad situation and family. One of 3 girls, Ivana lives with an alcoholic father. He earns money soley to drink, never for anything else. In alcoholic rages he beats the mother and the girls. Ivana lives in fear. You can see it. She never laughs out loud, speaks loud or repeats herself. She doesn’t like to be touched, especially by guys, but not even by girls. Hers is only one sad story of the kids at this camp. Actually, sadly, it’s a common story all over the world. It’s quite common for kids just down my street at home to suffer in similiar situations.
But this time, something was different. My heart was pulled to her like nobody ever before. All the kids from all the other countries, and this is the girl that grabs me heart and soul. The first part of camp, she had nothing to do with me. She stayed quiet and reserved. Then on Thursday night, during the late night dance party, a breathrough happened. She sat down outside with me on the patio. Soon, a game of “Hot hands” began. As I tickled her palms, and she tickled mine, a smile came across her face. It was a big smile. She was actually having fun. We bonded after more than an hour. She laughed out loud, covered her face when she lost the game, and jumped in her seat when she won. Finally, I hugged her and took her to bed. I helped her brush her teeth and get ready for bed, then I tucked her in and told her goodnight. “Laka noch.” I went away praying for her, knowing her sad home situation. God was burdening my heart to pray for her.
On Friday, I walked her to breakfast, swimtime, and lunch. In the evening, she grabbed me and walked me to the beach. That was quite a funny experience, mainly because she was leading me and couldn’t communicate with me where we were going. At the beach, she bought an icecream, and happily munched it down. I wondered how often she got icecream at home. After she had smeared enough on her face, given me some of chocolate coating, and eaten the rest, she jumped up and went and bought another. We skipped back to camp, holding hands. All the while, she talked my ear off in Croatian. I taught her how to say, “tractor,” as one drove past.
That night, during the talent show, she made me sit beside her. Even amidst the loud karaoke music, she laid her head on my shoulder and went to sleep. Nikolina helped me get her to bed.
She woke up, and not wanting to be in the room all alone, she made me sleep on the bottom bunk. I laid there praying for her until she went to sleep. My heart was full of love for her.
Today, (Saturday) we talked some, walked to breakfast together, and talked some more. Mostly she teaches me Croatian, but for a bit, she slipped off and drew me a picture. She came to me and surprised me. She was definetly proud of her drawing. Across the top, she wrote “I Love You Ashley!” Then, in the middle was a big heart with the words, “Volim Te Ashley!” Nikolina said she somehow already knew how to spell my name. That was special.
Soon after, we had one last walk to lunch and to the boat dock. We hugged, played with each other’s hair, and played more hot hands. It was a sweet moment. There was nobody else in the world, only me and Ivana. For one
week she had escaped her normal life, the life that is so unfair for such a sweet 9-year-old girl. It was all coming to a close though, and all I could do was hope that she had met with Jesus. He’s the only peace she could take home with her.
The ferry came into view. That’s all it took for reality to set in… for both of us. She grabbed me around the waist, hugged me with a force beyound her tiny muscles, and cried into my light blue t-shirt. She looked up into my eyes, big alligator tears in hers, and spoke a plea without words. She didn’t want to leave. I saw it deep in her soul. I didn’t want to let go. As I fought back tears, we clinged to one another. Then, others came to tell me goodbye. I wanted to look up and give all the kids a good farewell, but I couldn’t pull myself away from Ivana etiher.
Finally, with all the faith and courage I could muster, I let Nikolina take her on the boat. Immediately emotion welled-up in me and burst free. The boat began to pull away with me standing on the dock trying for one last glimpse. She came to the rail, tears still flowing, shoulders rising and falling as she gasped for breath. We gave our last waves, blew kisses, and cried for one another. With the boat out of sight, it was all I could do to keep from falling to my knees and screaming out to God for her to come back.
All day I’ve prayed for her. I’ve prayed for her family, for her life, for her to find the hope in Jesus that she so desparetely needs. So many of these kids need to find their hope and strength in Christ. I couldn’t imagine being in their circumstances without standing on the rock of Jesus. I’ve been praying for understanding and for encouragement. I want desparetely to recover from this broken-heart so I can give back to more kids in the second week of camp. This is my first broken-heart. What a day.
God knows how much love Ivana needed, and He broke my heart for her so I could give all of my life to her. It took only two days to be completely broken for her, to empty out all of myself for her. I’ll never forget Ivana….never.
Those are the words from my journal a week ago. God is so good because he continued to pour love into me for the second batch of kids. He used a simple game of “hot hands” to open the heart of a battered little girl. Perhaps Jesus entered in. I don’t speak Croatian, I don’t know. One thing I do know is that she had the opportunity to experience and see Jesus at camp. The love and care from all the volunteers is just the outstretched arm of Jesus. Pray for little children like Ivana all over the world. These kids find themselves born into situations that they don’t deserve to be in. But God will have glory in their lives, and especially if they have the opportunity to see Jesus in people like us. Find the “Ivanas” in your town and show them love and compassion. They are there, probably just down the street. Have God break your heart for them so that they can see Him.
