I have a friend named Lindsay who is some kind of wonderful.
She’s the type of young lady who smiles like sunshine and laughs like everybody’s favorite song. She’s the kind of gal you’d want around anytime, anywhere, a constant source of light in even the darkest of places. She’s like a treasure that you want to keep in your pocket and show everyone you meet, pulling her out to automatically brighten anyone’s day and to help you remember the good when it seems hard to see it.
She’s joyful in the best of ways, more contagious than the flu and a whole lot sweeter too. She dances around like the rain, twirling and spinning, bringing life and making all the flowers bloom with every movement. She’s bold not bored, turning normalcy into newness and utilizing the world as her playground. She’s silly and happy, giggling at the same joke over and over again, giving even the lousiest of comedians a standing ovation.
She’s the best greeting committee known to man, running and jumping with giddy and glee at the sight of your arrival, her laughter and excitement much more valuable than any red carpet lined with fancy things. She loves like it’s her job, welcoming any stranger with hopeful expectation that they could be her new best pal. She gives all that she has, knowing in her heart that sharing is most definitely caring.
She’s stunningly beautiful, in the most natural way making you wonder if she was raised by rainbows, butterflies, and waterfalls. She would take the gold medal in any beauty contest by a landslide, no makeup or dresses needed. She carries herself like she must be the luckiest and most blessed girl on earth, princess of the rain forest, not noting any shortcomings she may have.
She’s respectful and intelligent, excited to learn and eager to interact with the Bible stories we tell her. She’s hungry to learn, eating up the words we say and songs we sing. She’s powerful and influential, effecting the whole room with her energy and spirit, setting off joy like a wildfire.
She’s cheerful and optimistic, never to be bothered by the dirt smudged on her face, the rips in her clothing, and the grass covering her body. She has more important things to focus on like celebrating people and playing like her life depends on it.
She’s thirsty, finally ready for a break, and asks me for a drink of water. She opens her mouth real wide, and my heart cracks real big, right in the middle. She smiles so bright and looks at me pondering my sudden hesitation prompted by seeing the utter decay of every tooth, black and brown and gaping, inside her precious little mouth.
She’s fragile and tiny, yet covered with marks of a life so vastly different than I have lived. She’s up and ready to play, re-energized by a split seconds break, while I feel like I just got the wind knocked out of me, remembering the reality of where I am and who I’m with.
She lives in a community along the Amazon River with only a handful of houses surrounding her. She calls a decomposing structure of two porches stacked on top of each other supported by decaying stilts home. She sleeps on the floor next to a gaping, dangerous hole in the center. She rests under a bug net squished in between her family, a pair of elder grandparents, her mother, and her younger disabled sister. She wears the same mud stained clothes and eats the same simple food that either the land provides. She sometimes breaks the consistency with a treat paid for by the little money selling fish provides.
She bathes in the Amazon River and owns barely anything to her name. She does not have running water or electricity, and only knows her family’s boat as a mode of transportation. She sees the same people all day, every day of her life, her family and the total of around ten other children living in her community.
She doesn’t have much, but apparently she doesn’t need much judging by the wellspring of joy that this little angel is. She doesn’t need your pity, because she doesn’t complain about her life being this way. She doesn’t know any different, she doesn’t fall under the impression that she is missing out on anything.
This friend Lindsay that I have is really some kind of wonderful.
She’s so important, missed the second we leave her. She is so loved, cherished by the God who created her in his image. She is taken care of, although societies judgement may not think so considering her situation. She is faithfully provided meal after meal and that is nothing short of a miracle. She is wealthy for so many reasons– wealthy because she has joy, wealthy because she has purpose, wealthy because she gets abundant life, wealthy because she has an inheritance in heaven waiting for her. She will be okay even though I tearfully leave her, tempted to be full of worry, because she knows a God who she can call Father that adores her and has a plan for her life.
He will take care of her.
