LITTLE TOOTHLESS GIRL
This is the simple story of the Little Toothless girl.
One day I stood in the wild of Southern Sudan, the village of Morobo to be exact, overseeing the reconstruction of a new church. I stood there by my mud covered truck and watched those Sudanese men work like hungry ants all striving to achieve something greater. It was a poetic moment for me. In a land where the laws of nature are the only honest form of government, and where the flaws of mankind cannot be hidden by the luster of the dollar, I stood and watched humanity in motion. Some of these men were working to change their country, others working for more money, and some working simply for survival…to feed their children. They were rebuilding their church with newer stronger bricks, and a tin roof that would keep out the rain much better than the old grass ones. I watched these men so desperately grasping for a better life, while bearing the weight of government oppression; still in desperate need of the most basic commodities, but working all the while with hopes of one day finding what we are all looking for…life abundant. I wondered if they would ever find it…
Watching those men peck away at the new building I began to lose all hope in my mission and in myself. I asked—What is this one new church going to do for the country of Sudan? How much of a difference can one young man make in this massive suffering place? I could help them build a thousand churches but would the suffering stop, would the fighting cease, would they know peace and joy?— I felt swallowed by the overwhelming tragedy of humanity that is Sudan.
And then…
I felt a little hand tickling fingers down my forearm.
I quickly shot my eyes to the little four year old girl who was bravely exploring my hairy white arms. Her hand froze. She had big brown eyes that got wider as we stared at one another. She was giddy almost, like she was petting a lion and was waiting for it to jump at her. I gave her a little wink and with that she was sent over the top with an explosion of laughter. Her friends, who had probably dared her to touch the white man, erupted in the background. But, I had no time for little games. What did this little girl want from me anyway? Didn’t she know that I couldn’t save her from an impending life of war and poverty? I was giving her the best I could, and it was better than nothing, but at the end of the day she would still be an impoverished, malnourished, African child. Couldn’t she understand that there was no reason in this world that she should be happy?—God, what can I do to save her?—But God whispered in her ear--He thinks he is here to save you. Now, save him--and with that she slid her hand down my arm, slowly traced the lines on my palm, until her dirty little fingers were interlocked with mine.
Somewhere in the space between my hopeless eyes and her beautiful toothless grin she overcame the world.
Her smile…
eyes wild with amazement, her little tongue poking through the missing teeth, all explained the mystery of love. My gaze was shattered by that glow radiating from her body. It reverberated into my soul eclipsing all wisdom and forever changing my idea of life. My eyes opened like a newborn.
I realized then, she doesn’t need or really want the things I came to offer. What an empty smile she would have had if I would have handed her the trivial objects we so passionately pursue for the sake of our happiness. I have seen so many who have exponentially more than this little toothless girl will ever have, yet have never smiled so wholly as she when she simply held my hand. I stood there with nothing more to offer than that simple human touch. I had no miracle of life, no clean new well, no shiny new school, only my dirty hand. As we stood there holding hands love overcame me. The true love between us in that moment conquered our plight. Love is the ultimate value of life. And that is all she ever wanted. May God bless the little toothless girl who taught me the value of love. And may our dirty hands meet again one day where love is abundant.
