Only God knows...

It's so easy to forget that these kids have lived through hell. When I have a kid smashed into my stomach in a bear hug, when we're running around playing soccer, when I sit on their beds as they go to sleep, when we're having a silly contest to see who has the most leg hair or when we are doing so many other normal, good things throughout the day...I forget.

But last night I was reminded of it all. I carried Manuel to his bed, staring into his smiling face as we walked down the hall. I tossed him onto the top bunk and began to tuck him in but he stopped me, saying "Mira! Mira!" (Look!) and began to pull his pajamas up past his thigh. He'd done this last night but there had been a power outage so I couldn't see what he was trying to show me, so I just said "Oh wow"...but now I could see it. On his inner thigh is a lumpy, swollen, scar slightly larger than half of the palm of my hand. What could I say? I asked him if it hurt. Yes. He showed me his other thigh and it had a smaller but just as painful mark. I gave him a hug and he fell asleep.

We aren't allowed to ask questions, so I didn't. Maybe he got this injury after coming to the orphanage...but I doubt it. I'll probably never know where it came from, and that's fine. God knows, and only from Him can there be healing. Still, what was made apparent by Manuel's scars is so often concealed by the smiles and hugs, the laughter and joking. Every kid is here for a reason. A painful, abusive reason. It's far too easy to forget that.

-Matt