She tighten her eyes shut so the tears couldn't escape. With an extra attempt to stop the tears she brought her palms to her eyes as if to be a stopper for all that was built up inside her.
I met Linda the previous week. She had come up to me after I had given my testimony. Not knowing much of spanish, a friend John Micheal, came to the rescue. He translated part of her story to me. I was able to pray with her and love her as best as I could with as little words as possible.
The following week as I was singing, and others were praying with the girls at IHNFA I felt a squeeze on my arm. It was Linda, she was headed out of the room for prayer with another girl Maggie. My heart was happy that she remembered me, and knew enough that she matters to me to know that her acknowledgement was more than accepted.
Afterwards while everyone was getting into the swing of things for our final day, Linda found me. She stood next to me, and praise the Lord Amaris was next to me. Her spanish is incredible and so I asked for her assistance in translating, which she graciously did so.
The beginning of our conversation started simply by asking how her week was. Which she replied "good".
Looking at her arms I knew better. She had new markings up both her arms. I had learned the week before she was a cutter, but there were only scars then. This time they were fresh markings. New scabs, and scars to be made. It broke my heart.
Talking more I found out not only had she cut herself more, but over the course of seven days she had tried commiting suicide. Which left her in the hospital for three or four days.
This was devastating to my thoughts. How could this young beautiful girl try taking her life? What made her feel the urge to do so?
My insides were turning and my heart was filled with compassion for Linda.
Linda's eyes slowing began to open. Her eyes still squinting from the burst of light that now penetrated her eyes. Her hands were still near to her face as if ready to put them back against her eyes in case of a sudden burst of tears.
Her mouth began to move and words slowly made their way from her lips. She began from the start of her problems.
"I'm alone. I have no one. My mother died four years ago, and I never knew my father." she said getting teary eyed once again. "My brother" with a pause "died in a car accident." She finished with the words "I'm alone in the world."
Knowing full well that the words "Jesus loves you" didn't seem as if they would solve all her hurts I asked "Where do you live? Who do you talk to about these things? Who is it you tell what's on your heart?"
Her reply broke my heart even more. "No one." She replied. "I live on the streets. All there is for me to do is smoke marajuana and keep everything to myself."
I wanted to cry for her. I was already doing so inside, but I couldn't out loud. I needed to give her my full attention so she could let out the hurts.
"Isn't there anyone?" I said in disbelief.
There was a desperation in her eyes for someone, something, anything to fill the void in her life. "No. There is no one." she said in such a soft but empty tone.
She spoke so softly, and her words were few at the start but now she was starting to open up. She started to talk more about how she missed her mother. How she ached so much from the loss of her family. How she missed them so much it tormented her. That it hurt to not even know who her father was, because he left her mother.
That the pain was so great that Linda would cut herself because it makes the inner hurts lessen. Each time she cuts she said "I like how it makes me feel." Cutting distracts her from the pain even if it is for a moment.
My insides felt wrecked. All I could think was "Lord, she is only fourteen. How is this possible?"
BE STILL. This is not the end.
As we continued talking to Linda she began to weep. With her hands to her face and tears rushing down her face she looked up at us and said "I was violated when I was nine years old."
My heart stopped. I didn't even have all the right words to comfort her. I didn't have many words. My mind went to a place of disgust as to how such a person could do such a thing to a small girl. Every time
I have come face to face with this situation I am appaulled. So I needed to re-focus to loving Linda in this moment.
Holding is about all I could do. The other girls and I told her how beautiful, and amazing she is. How worthy of love she is. That what happened to her was not her fault.
Nine years old and touched by a man in the most inappropriate way for a little girl. Followed by losing her mother the following year and losing her brother to a car accident. Leading her to living a life on the streets. Where she is too young for a gang so she smokes marajuana.
All the while never knowing a father that loves her. Knowing that God sees her hurts and cries for her. Who is with her always. A God who sent people to wrap their arms around her to tell her how worthy she is to be loved. An amazing God who thinks she is pure, lovely, and beautiful.
Afterall, Linda means beautiful.
