This is Isella. She’s about five years old. I found that out from her brother. Every time I asked her, she’d just smile and say, “mi hermano sabe.” (My brother knows). She wears this hat or a sun hat every day. When I asked her why, she just smiled and said she thought her hair was ugly. A lot of the kids here get lice and usually shave off their hair. She’s missing several teeth, but I love seeing her smiles(which are a lot).
My usual daily ministry is teaching classes every day. But in between morning and afternoon classes, we teach devotionals, help kids with homework, and serve at the soup kitchen. The kids at the soup kitchen are polar opposite to the kids at the school. Most of these kids come from outer areas of town. Their parents drop them off here in the city of Caranavi, rent them apartments, and leave them to work so they can raise money for their families. The girls work jobs of cleaning and the boys are mechanics. They work throughout the day and then take night classes for school. The people here at the soup kitchen have been doing this ministry for years. They make food for over 50 kids a day, prepare bible lessons and songs, and help teach the kids good morals.
One of my team mates was talking to a lady at her ministry, and she referenced the city of Caranavi as “small town, big Hell.” It’s the norm here for parents to hit their children and usually expected. Marriages are uncommon because they usually end up cheating on each other. And poverty is everywhere. It’s not like America where there is poverty, but still opportunity. This seems like the only option of life for these people.
For such sweet beloved children of God like Isella, it seems like such a hard hand to be dealt. For kids having to grow up and close up too fast. And almost unfair when I think of the lifestyle I’ve been brought up in. Sometimes, I look at Isella and wonder how she’s still smiling. How are any of these kids smiling at all? Yet, I see and feel so much of Gods love for her. I’m so grateful for Gods love that ALWAYS persists, pursues, and waits outside Isella’s doors, knocking. Wanting so desperately to be let inside and heal what has been unjustly broken.
I don’t know everything about Isella, but I see so much of the heart Gods put in her.
So seen, so cherished, so alive, SO thankful for this glimpse of Jesus through my short time with her.
He has called me higher,
Jenn
