"The Power Of an Orphan Girl"

 

My parents 

told me that we were going to help 

a family friend who worked with orphans.

I didn’t fully understand, now of course at 14 

I was the most globally conscious mind in the room.

I was constantly updated with the latest issues

from the newest politically charged punk album

and each vocalist was a news anchor. 

 

I had confidence,  I stepped on that plane  

and before the heat even slammed into 

my face like a slap from a disapproving mother

I declared “I know the injustice

that takes place here”, 

 

As I walked 

Around the barbed wire fenced orphanage

I saw a girl who had eyes like meat hooks 

that latched on to your heart and pulled you toward her.

We spoke “Hola”

 “Come Estas” 

“Como te llamas?” 

“Wendy” 

The delivery of her name 

like a file that contained her biography.

A family that left her for dead 

a girl so beautiful. 

Yet at the age of 4

when they found her, her hair was gray.

 

I looked in her eyes scanning for tears,

None, I searched deeper

 past her iris expecting to see

a dam of bitterness and pain. 

No, just a heart that had been mended 

sewn together like that favorite sweater 

you love too much to throw away

 just because of a few holes.

 

I get lost in the description 

of that moment and the countless 

encounters I’ve had each year 

I have returned since I met Wendy. 

 

When I speak to people beyond 

the casual boundaries of hello and goodbye. 

It is as if  each word is just a step closer

to telling of this experience. An encounter

with a love that mends hearts.

A love that takes a frail gray haired toddler

and reveals her to be the definition of 

reckless love and beauty from the top

of her head to the bottom of her heart.

 

I cannot contain silence or sensor

this. I meet new people

I don’t try to tell them It just happens.

The casual conversation casually

without fail, somehow, redirects itself

to this story of a power that mends hearts

and of little girl who has eyes

like meat hooks.