It’s dim inside. The beat of the drum
starts. The candle flickers. Her eyes are heavy. Her breathing gets
harder. Questions flood the mind.
 
When was the last time she fell asleep
being held?
Does this bring back memories of her
mother?
Does she even remember her mother?

Feet pound the ground. Kids jump up and
down. The drums get faster. The noise of a stick hitting a chair is
added to the beat. Her breathing steadies out. Her head rests on my
chest. Questions flood the mind.

Has she ever felt loved when she falls
asleep?
How long will it be until she feels
this way again?

Children’s voices fill the air. A joy
comes over the place. Smiles fill the room. Her body goes limp. Her
eyes fall. Joy fills my heart.

She is sound asleep, even with all the
noise in the candle lit room. Her belly is puffed out. Her legs and
head have scabs on them. She has no panties on. She is beautiful. She
is loved. Questions flood the mind.

What does this beautiful, wonderfully
made, orphan have in store for her life?
Will she end up like the other women in
this nation? Under the bondage of sexual promiscuity?
Will she be loved for who she is or
will she be loved for what she can provide to a man?

So I pray. God give her physical
nourishment. Heal her body. Let her get a full nights rest. Put
someone in her life to disciple her. Protect her from the evil ways
of this nation. Tell her she is loved by you. I proclaim life over
this orphan child. Then she is taken from me.

I watch as the lady walks away.
Questions still flood my mind.
 
 Picture to come.