Special

One of my best friend's college friendsand roommate (whom I met once or twice while at BYU) writes this really wonderful blog, Progressive Pioneer (you should check it out sometime.) It's filled with great ideas (some, I must admit, I wouldn't entirely and whole-heartedly be able to embrace) but her thoughts on living green, or living life with purpose in its purest and simplest form fascinate me and motivate me to be a better person, and live a better life.  I absolutely loved her "Hard Conversations" post from a few days back... as I can so whole-heartedly (this time) identify with her thinking and feeling on the matter and how our little children (as all little children) are so alike in their purity and compassion for those amongst us who are less (or least) fortunate.  I often have very similar conversations (like the one in the above mentioned post) with Ella. She too spends a lot of time thinking and asking questions about someone's misfortune or situation, and she prays. She prays, bless her heart, very specifically for their needs. So much to learn from these little ones, so grateful for their pure souls. Below there are a couple of paragraphs I'd like to quote from her "Hard Conversations" post, as her beautifully written words ring so close to my heart:

"Who is that man, mom?" he asked me.  I explained about homelessness.  He wanted to know why he didn't have a home.  I explained that there are a few reasons, and that it was also likely that the man used things that made his body feel good momentarily, but were very bad for his body in the long run.  I try to give him real answers, but in terms he can understand and with a level of reality appropriate for his tender age and heart.  Sam was very interested in this notion of not having a home, and very concerned about how this man might find a home.  We talked about homeless shelters and soup kitchens.  He wanted to know if we could bring him home to our house.  I couldn't figure out a way to explain why we couldn't.  I told him that perhaps we could volunteer at the shelter or soup kitchen and we could help him in that way.  Though it squeezed my heart to see his sweet heart so wide open and full of love and being so newly exposed to one of the harsh and sad realities of life on earth, I still felt that the conversation had gone well and that I had answered him in the best way possible, or at least pretty close to it, if there is a best way. 

"Tonight when I went in to kiss Sam goodnight he asked me again about the homeless man.  Bedtime is often the time when concerns or just things that have been on his mind come to the surface, and it's a time for us to lay quietly and process them together.  We spent about half an hour talking about this man.  Sam did most of the talking and I just listened, ocassionally offering explanations or suggestions.  By the end of the conversation I had tears in my eyes at the tenderness of Sam's heart and his capacity for compassion.  He was worried that the man would be outside in the rain tonight and would have to sleep in the dark.  I told him that I hoped he had gone to a shelter tonight.  "Does he have a mother at the homeless shelter?" he asked, "He needs a mother to help him find a new home."  He wanted to know how he would get to the shelter, he thought a train might be a good way.  He worried that he had lost his coat, because he hadn't been wearing a coat when we saw him.  "I want Heavenly Father to show him how to get there," he said.  "You could ask him that," I suggested.  And so he rolled over onto his knees and said, "Dear Heavenly Father, please help the homeless man to find the shelter.  He doesn't have a house and I don't want him to die.  Please do that.  In the name of Jesus Christ, amen."  It was the most serious and sincere prayer I've heard him say.  I don't even know where he got the idea that the man might die.  From there he asked me how the man would walk if he died and how he would get back to Heaven.  My goodness, such a heavy conversation for a toddler, and for this mama.  But, so good to talk about, I think.  I don't really know if I handled it right, or if there is a right way.  I mean, really, what is the answer? " (by Progressive Pioneer)

As I'm typing this, a vivid memory comes to mind... many many years ago in front of Bucur Obor (a pretty famous supermarket/store in Bucharest), this teenage girl made a special friend one Sunday afternoon on her way home from church.

Bucur Obor...

They stayed friends for a while, maybe through the whole entire spring/summer, and fall seasons until one of them had to leave. My special friend, Maria, was probably forced to move by either supermarket owners, municipality, or simply by her own demons. She was forced to move her neatly established camp made up of intricately taped-together cardboard boxes and a myriad of plastic bags containing food and other meager belongings. I never found out where she moved, I never saw her again. but I'll always remember how she touched my life. I would go stand there in her little "corner" and listen to her pouring out her soul of all the misfortunes of life almost every day. I'd bring her food and other personal necessities and just stand there and watch/listen to her talk. Those visits touched me in ways hard to put in words but for sure they made the Savior's teachings/words of loving one another, and loving others as we love ourselves, having the pure love of Christ, MORE ALIVE AND TRUE than never before. I learned not to judge no matter how tempting that may be, not to find reasons why, but just be there, just serve in any way possible. Thank you Maria, and thank you Progressive Pioneer for touching my heart then, today, and always.