Walking back from dinner one night both of my hands were suddenly taken up by two little girls. One on each side, they were so small, so very thin, so tiny really they couldn’t have been more than a few pounds each. Huge eyes looked up at me with such happiness to be walking with their Uncle Tom. Find waif in your dictionary and you’ll probably see their pictures. They are recent arrivals from the State of Orissa where much of the Christian persecution is taking place, so they spoke only their native language of Oriea. I didn’t know their names and we didn’t share a language, only our hands. So we walked along smiling, just being content with our togetherness.
As we got closer to the hostel where they stayed, they knew I would be separating from them soon since I would be walking onto the Arts and Science College building that I call home when I’m here at the orphanage. One of them was struggling to tell me something before we parted but didn’t know how to span our language barrier. She stammered and said a few things that I didn’t understand. She could see my confusion. Then I heard her singing. In a small child’s voice, it was hard for these old ears to hear, but I could pick out the familiar melody as she sang in perfect English:
Jesus Loves the little children
ALL the children of the world
Red and yellow, black and white
They are precious in His sight
Jesus Loves the little children
Of the world
I smiled, squeezed her hand tight, sang with her in agreement, and thanked my God for blessing me so much by allowing me to be here with them. To hear their love for my Boss and Savior. Another after-dinner Love Lesson here at the Michael Job Centre.