In a small Cambodian village, with 42 houses, if you look closely you will find a very special little child adorned in a big crown of beauty…
The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion– to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor. Isaiah 63:1-3
As I walked up the dusty road into the village I spotted an adorable kid running towards me. With a vivacious spirit and excitement in his eyes, he ran and jumped into my arms!
This.
kid.
was.
cute!
He wore extremely tattered clothing and a smile as wide as the ocean. I did not know his name and because his hair was shaved like a Monk my team and I referred to him as ‘Little Monk.’ From day one Little Monk and I were inseparable.
Everyday we brought supplies to the village to give the children baths from the community well. We sang Bible songs with them in both Khmer and English. In addition, we brought with us big pots of porridge to feed the children. Daily little Monk was so exited to sing songs and eat the porridge. But for whatever reason, he avoided bath time.
The following day upon entering the village Little Monk again greeted me by running and jumping into my welcoming embrace. This time he decided to join in the bath time fun. I was totally surprised to find that, Little Monk was in fact not at all a Monk, but was a girl! Her new nickname became Monket! (I later learned that her actual name is Nhan. However, when called by her name she didn’t really respond, as though no one refers to her by her name.)
Monket had much less than most other children in the village. She was the only girl in the village without any hair as a result of being shaved. Her usual outfit consisted of a green pair of shorts, a tan pair of undies, and sometimes she wore a ragged tank top. Once she wore a cute little pair of flip-flops with flowers on them. I said, “Oh, your shoes are very lovely!” And within minutes as I was holding her a mother approached, took the shoes from Monket, and said that they were her daughter’s shoes. Monket just looked at me helplessly.
What she lacked in material possessions she made up for in spirit. She was full of personality and spunk. And if that wasn’t enough, she attached herself to me like glue even though she knew the day was coming when I would leave. She loved me unremittingly.
Prior to our departure, I wanted to give her a farewell gift from me that would make her feel beautiful and special. I didn’t feel right giving her something too extravagant though because I wouldn’t be able to give every child something. I decided to give her my headband, which just happened to match her wardrobe almost in its entirety. But my headband was so plain and I wanted her to have something pretty! I found a ribbon and decided to tie a little bow on the headband for her.
Before leaving for the village, a teammate told me, “You are doing it! You are ‘bestowing on her a crown of beauty!’’ I was astonished, because that’s exactly what I was envisioning placing on her head. Of course, the crown of beauty came wrapped in imagination in the form of a green headband with a makeshift, handmade bow. As I wore the headband to the village on our last day, for whatever reason, the headband fell off my head. Monket saw the headband, grabbed, and threw it on her head. And as easy as that, she loved her new ‘crown of beauty!’
As we were going about our last day her mother, whom until now I had never seen, came over to Monket and said something in Khmer. Monket quickly and shamefully took off the headband as her mother walked away. I ran over to my translating friend and asked for her assistance to speak to Monket’s mother. Apparently, Monket’s mother mocked her for wearing a headband since she had no hair. My humanness wanted to smack her mother for shaving her daughter’s hair to then ridicule her as a result. Instead, I enthusiastically told her how wonderful and delightful her daughter is. I thanked her for the privilege of getting to know her little bundle of joy. Her mother replied, “She would be beautiful if she had long hair. The headband should be worn with hair.” Again, the need to smack her arose in me. “She does not need long hair to be beautiful. Her beauty radiates from the inside out! She really enjoys the headband. And even without any hair at all, her headband looks adorable on her,” I said instead. Her attitude then shifted as she saw my delight in her daughter. She then proceeded to thank me and tell me that she is so lucky to have her daughter because she is her only child.
Monket exemplifies an extraordinary reminder to love unconditionally, without holding back. As we were leaving Monket held my face with her little hands, looked me in the eyes, and then repeatedly showered both of my cheeks with kisses! She loved me unreservedly even though she knew I would eventually leave. She didn’t think, “well if I knew we would be friends forever… if I had some sort of commitment… or, if I knew her better I would open up and share with her my unashamed love.” She is such an inspirational reflection of God’s daring love and I am forever changed to have known her.
In the small Cambodian village, with 42 houses, not only did I leave my headband.
I left a large piece of my heart in the hands of a little girl adorned in a big crown of beauty.
And I’m okay with that.
