When I met Anna

Walking into what seemed as overcrowed room with children all over the place,
All you can do is smell the stench of dirty diapers and hear the sound of crying all over the place.
These cries are unforgettable because they are the cries of the rejected, the lost and the hurting.
Children can be found in their cribs, in the classroom, or on the patio.
How does one choose where to go and who to hold?
Picking them up one by one as I made my way toward the room where they all play, you can see their personalities shining through already. You can see the pain, the abuse and the brokenness in their eyes, in their tears and in their clutch; Their arms reaching up, too many to carry at once.
Then I hear a painful cry, coming from the corner, underneath a pile of bitter five year olds, hitting, punching and pulling the hair of the blonde hair, mixed Jamaican orphan.

It was then that I met Anna.

Her arms are thinner than that of a newborn. Her hair is frayed and torn from many hands attempts to pull it out.
Her legs are purple and bruised from the past I still do not know about.
She smiled at me as I wiped the tears from her cheeks, only to reveal her one broken tooth.
Anna is small, she might be four but looks two years younger than that. Her small body laid upon my shoulder and my hand could feel her spine curl, and I could feel her ribs from underneath her clothing.
As I walked the hall with her head on my shoulder, I felt her heart beat slow down; she finally felt safe. Then all of the sudden, she sat straight up, began to giggle, and pointed. I looked over to see she was pointing to Alex. Her arms were out to be held by him.

“Alex,” I Said, “Meet Anna”

The rest of the afternoon was spent with Anna, and the rest of the children in their orphanage in Jamaica. The day did not end as you would imagine in a storybook. I could not take Anna home, I could not give her a mom or dad- but I did hold her, sing with her and prayed for God to fulfill his will in her life. This life is not always about fixing everything, but being the hands and feet of the one who holds, heals and fixes all things. I think about Anna a lot. She is just one of thousands here in Jamaica without a home, without a loving family to call her own and without hope for a better day tomorrow. But now, she will never be forgotten, she will never be alone and she is never without a prayer for her future, her healing and her strength. Although she only has one tooth, I pray, someday, heaven will be a glorious place to see her beautiful smile-

When I meet Anna once again.