Monday, January 7, 2008

The Babies

When working with the poor, a layer of mental skin forms protecting your mind from the horrors of what it means to be poor. It’s like a callous that protects emotions from being rubbed raw. But, for me, there is one place that always pierces this mental armor.


The Missionaries of Charity run a home for abandoned children in Port-Au-Prince, Haiti, and every time I visited there, I come away bleeding, and in pain because the callous has been torn off.

This is where I meet Jesus in a new profound way.

The little babies cry from their cribs, desperate for affection. There is just not enough staff to provide the necessary love and care. And, for many, the only world they may ever know is their crib. Some are so frail they can’t be picked up and held; yet they hold their arms out in longing expectation. And, behind their tears, I see the dull eyes of malnourishment. Others have tubes sticking out from their heads, their hands tied gently to the crib so they won’t pull them out.

This is where my tears flow. This is where I see poverty. I am supposed to be inoculated to this. I’m the observer, the journalist who is recording poverty for others to see. But, to step into this room is where my emotional barriers break down.

This is where I meet Jesus.

I stand in front of a crib and the infant struggles to stand up and holds her arms out to me. I’m told that if I hug her I might break her small bones. The infant is crying and I’m trying to hold back tears all the while thinking where is God, where is Jesus.

I look up and on the wall, overlooking these rows of babies, is a portrait of Jesus on the cross being kissed by a small child. The face of Jesus shows none of the pain of the cross, instead his face reveals a sadness intertwined with the warmth of comfort.

In return for his comfort, the child is trying to make Jesus better with a kiss. A kiss, not of betrayal, but of love. And Jesus is returning that love, though physically weakened by his ordeal.

The child is holding on tight not wanting to let Jesus go. But, Jesus does go, and we as his people are left behind to fill his physical void, to spread his love and warmth to the children of the world.

This is the place that makes me cry. This is where I meet myself and this is where I meet God. A collision of my will and His. There is no contest. I wither before His presence, and my soul is exposed.

This is the place where I meet Jesus.


Craig Cole is the executive director of Five Talents International, an Anglican microfinance nonprofit. He is also a member of Diocese of Virginia's Mission Commission and an EGR board member.