Thursday, January 31, 2008

I used to hate English class, now, not so much!

This was written by one of the students in my youth group about Nicaragua and a child that had a huge impact on me personally, but our group as a whole. She chose to write the story from my perspective for her creative writing class. It is pretty cool. Shannon Rosedale is her name.

How could he ever trust me? I'm just some stranger. He doesn’t know who I am or what I’ve done or haven’t. I could mean nothing to him, but if he takes my hand, I could change his world. That’s what I am here for right, to help change the world. Maybe that’s where I’ve been wrong. Maybe the world was meant to change me. How could it be that, that little boy, that innocent, harmless soul change a man like me? Those eyes though, oh boy those eyes. Just look at them. You can almost see the waves crashing down in them, carrying all the fear and sorrow. He must leave behind it all, everything, his family, friends, home, culture, everything. But he will gain so much. If only I could tell him, if only I could make him see, if only I could let him know its ok, I won’t hurt you. Trust me. That hand there it is. Slowly yes, moving, fingers interlocking, storm in eyes clearing up, yes! He is looking at me no longer a dull brown filled with pain but a new life that had begun to be tendered with love and care and yes, trust. Trust in me, trust in my safety, trust in me to lead him to a future, to change, to opportunity. Yes, at last this is it. Finally, the world I see, no I was never sent here to change it but this boy, this fragile, resistant, angel, nice and kind and yearning. Eager for a chance at a new start believing and putting his faith in what, a newly wed youth pastor fresh on his own path of trust in the world, a man who has dedicated his time and life to helping others, a man who simply wants to care. Is no, not saving the world, but in fact being saved, by innocence, by love, by peace, by trust, by Franky.

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