Meet Franco. A beautiful, if not sad & apprehensive, little boy that first caught my eye when our bus pulled into the complex where we were holding one of our medical clinics. I distinctly remember seeing him from my open window. He was ambling alongside the fence where we entered. He was alone. There were no smiles from him. Just curious little eyes looking out from his down-trodden head. I tapped Sherry (pictured here with Franco) and said one little word, "Look".
I had never seen bow legs like this before. There was no running, no jumping, no carefree skipping for Franco. And behind that curious gaze, you could feel a longing for help. As if Jesus himself was saying "when you did it to one of the least of these".
I can't pretend to know or understand what Franco was really feeling - or how he felt his whole life. I don't know what it's like to live with this kind of condition. I don't know if he saw us Mzungus and thought, maybe they can help me. Or maybe he thought there was no helping him. But I do know that every child wants to be seen. Wants to be loved. And from all appearances, it didn't seem Franco thought he was either seen or loved.
Let's fast forward a few weeks. I'd like you meet Franco. A beautiful little boy, quick with a smile and head held high. He's recovering from surgery and starting his rehabilitation. He's taking small steps ... or wait ... was that really a giant leap?
When sad & apprehensive becomes beaming & joyful, I'd say thats quite a leap. It's amazing that when Jesus moves us to see, moves us to act, lives change. I thank God that Sherry & Ken (of Loving One by One) follow God's spontaneous prompts. I hope I do the same.
Franco, we see you. We love you. Leap on :)
