He is seven. About four foot two. Brown eyes. Brown hair. Brown skin. He melts my heart when I think about him. I can feel his little arms now. Legs launching, he jumps into the air and lands on my back wrapping all four limbs around me never to let go. We will call him John. I call him “Mi Mico.” He is “My Little Monkey.” Let’s catalog this month with Mi Mico.
Every day, he is this little ball of energy, he bounces around the farm from one thing to another. He plays soccer one minute. He is on a swing another. The next, he is surprise attacking me from behind to play “Caballito’s!” I become his “Horse” for the next little while…until I get tired. It’s NEVER the other way around.
One Thursday, we are all getting ready to take a trip to the lake. One at a time, 18 people begin to load into a small 12 passenger van. As everyone is loading, Mi Mico, is on my lap, and in his inquisitive nature, is asking wonderful questions. His little seven-year old body is quenched of thirst so he asks if he can drink my water. He starts sipping from my life straw water bottle and begins to look at the map sticker attached to the outside.
“This is where we are,” I point to where Colombia is on the map. He nods in approval.
“This is where I am from and where all of my family is,” I tell him as I point to where North Carolina is.
“Really?” He exclaims as he looks up at me in amazement. He is in awe of this fascinating new information. “I want to go there with you,” he says. Rip, crack, shatter. My heart begins to break for this little boy that I MUST leave in only a week. How am I going to do this? I begin to explain to him about the World Race and that we are going to 11 countries in 11 months and I have to leave Colombia at the end of the month to go to Greece and share the love of Jesus with other little boys and girls.
“I want to come with you!” The crack that started, begins breaking further, ensuring that apathy is nowhere to be found in the loving deeply section of my heart.
“I wish you could,” I tell him in Spanish. “I can’t stay with you forever, but Jesus can. He loves you so much that he promises that He will never leave you.”
Sad at the thought of not coming with me, he buries his little head in my chest and holds on to me with all of the love his little body can muster. Then, suddenly, he looks up at me, “How many days?” Confused at the question, I sat for a second, then realized he wants to know how many more days until we have to leave for Greece. “We leave next Tuesday,” I answered him. “But how many days?!” I counted for him, “Six more days until we leave, but I will only see you for three of those days.” Satisfied with this answer, and not quite grasping the concept of us leaving and not returning, he gleefully jumps off my lap and we load the van to go to the lake…as my heart continues to break little by little inside.
It’s night time. We had an awesome day at the lake. The boys got to swim and run around the almost enchanted forest with so much freedom. We decide to have a bonfire for them before we leave next week. We break out the crackers, chocolate and marshmallows for s’mores and the boys eat marshmallow after marshmallow…a few too many before going to bed. Danielle and Angel (John’s 8 year old brother) are sitting beside us on the bench by the fire. Angel snuggles up in Danielle’s arms and falls asleep. The awkward bench gets in the way so she sits on the ground by the fire. Jealous of his brother’s comfort, John, already sitting in my lap, motions to sit on the ground so he can curl up on me and fall asleep like his brother. All that sugar in his system wouldn’t allow for that. Danielle took Angel to bed and tucked him in under his covers. John, jealous again, stands up, turns to me, wraps his blanket around himself and motions for me to do the same. Gladly, I oblige. I pick up the little monkey and carry him to his bed. I tuck him in with his blanky and his stuffed lion. Sweet dreams.
It’s 7:30pm, the day before leaving the farm. It is time for the boys devotional. We all pile in the boy’s bedroom and two of them make a large pallet on the floor so we can sit on something soft instead of the cold floor. (Winning my heart even more) One boy at a time climbs up into a lap for the devotional. John…climbs up into mine. He leans back against me, and just breathes. He is home, in my arms, in Jesus arms. Mary leads the devotional for them as they all listen intently. We ask them what they would like to pray for. They list their families, mothers, and siblings. Then, Angel asks that God would fill the farm with angels, he truly has been given the perfect name. Afterward, I give the boys journals for them to write or draw in and I give them each a hand written letter. I poured my heart out in each one, but I put everything in that letter to John. As I hand out the other letters, Danielle reads his letter to him. When he understands what it says, he reaches up and hugs me with all his might. Full of excitement, the boys start bouncing around the room as we tell each of them goodbye. Tears start streaming down my face. Then I notice a few more of us are crying. The boys ask, “Why are you crying?” Heart broken, I can’t even answer them. I hug John goodbye after trotting around as his horse for a few minutes and take him to his bed. I lay him down. I tuck him in. I put his fuzzy green blanket behind his head just how he likes. I softly hand him his lion…making eye contact with him the whole time…his little head starts shaking back and forth as he looks at me. “You are not going anywhere!” His eyes seem to say as he tosses the covers, blankie, and lion, and clings to my neck and underside like a baby monkey. Holding on for dear life, he will not let go. After a few minutes of rocking him, I put him down. I tell him goodbye, and walk from the room. Shatter.
This little boy climbed into my heart and snuggled up inside. He has no doubt, nor do I, that he will always have a place in my heart. He shattered the heart I brought to Colombia and made it bigger so he could fit inside.
The memory that will stick with me forever and I will cherish with all my heart is this one. A few days before leaving the farm, he made me his “Caballito,” yet again. He told me, “Siempre vas a ser mi caballito, You will always be my horsey.” I replied to him, “Siempre vas a ser Mi Mico, You will always be My Little Monkey.” He nodded in agreement, satisfied inside.
** All of these boys come from either physically or sexually abusive homes. There are currently 5 boys on the farm at Open Arms (Abrazos Abiertos). If you would like to donate, take a mission trip there to help, or just know more about the ministry, please contact William Perrow through Facebook. The link to his facebook page is below: https://www.facebook.com/weperrow?fref=ts. Thank you! **
