During our time at Remar Center, Nick introduced me to a small girl named Phila. She must have been around four, but she didn’t speak a single word the whole time. She was completely silent, and almost void of emotion. She typically held her head a bit low, and generally just looked sad. I tried every possible way I could think of to make her laugh or even smile. Nothing seemed to work, though. My heart broke for her, and it still does. Why does she have no joy? What hardships has she endured that have rendered this result?
Monday, the last day at the Remar Center, I was holding her and she began to doze off. Her sister came over and clung to my side while I rocked her little sister. Eventually, Nick asked if she had a bed to lay her down. In the back of the basement there was a tiny room with four bunk-beds in it. The room smelled of urine and was dim. We laid her down and Nick suggested we spend some time praying over her. Her breathing was labored and she coughed periodically–deep and bronchial. This is one of God’s precious angels. She is cherished by Him, and deeply loved. Does she even realize that? Does she have anyone regularly telling her that? What will happen to her? What will she grow up to do? Will she make it that far? These are the questions I was left with as our truck drove away that afternoon.
