Grace, or, When perspective gets rattled

The disparity between what I see and how I live continues to perturb my heart. I sit here at my weird-table-turned desk, fully satisfied with food--thank you, selfless housemate--as well as food for the soul--thank you, Poetry Foundation. I have clean water and a clean shirt and a clean bed beside me. You know I could go on. Some days I'm ashamed to find myself thinking, "Why didn't I bring more than one [pair of sneakers, longer-than-knee-length dress, personal notebook, set of stud earrings, long sleeved cardigan]?" Then my perspective gets a nice knock, for which I thank the Lord.

This past Sunday, a lady named Grace pleasantly asked how my week was. I replied, then asked her the same question. It's our typical Sunday morning post-Bible study, pre-church service conversation. I wasn't prepared for her response.

"Well, I was at the funeral this week." She was surprised I'd not heard of it. A member of her women's literacy class in one of the nearby villages passed away, leaving a four-month-old baby, whom her husband has abandoned.

This is what wrenches a heart.

The baby, also named Grace, has a ten-year-old sister from her mother's first marriage as a caretaker. The closest living (and present) relative is her mother's cousin, who does not have the means to take on these two little girls. This story can be heard a thousand times over in this place, but it becomes increasingly heart-breaking when Mirjam shows me a picture of these two sweet, but incredibly sad faces.

Today I held baby Grace; I saw her giggle and I saw her cry. How could I help but ask in my mind, "What will happen to you? Who will love you?" I know the village kids tend to be excellently demonstrative in the realm of joy, but I also know that their lives are incredibly sad; they face filth, ignorance, disease, and deep sorrow that surpasses what I imagine for myself or for my future children. But what can I do but hold this infant, get her some baby formula, and pray for her well-being? So I hold her. I tell you, she's beautiful.

Only the other Grace could make her laugh.