Tonight, I told the story of the girl in alley again.
It was the first time I didn’t cry or get teary-eyed while talking. Instead, a funny thing happened… I smiled. A lot. I’m not sure if the friend I was with quite knew what to do with me. My voice said sadness, my words said sadness, but my face said joy.
I think this is a good spot to be in right now. Does my heart ache to hold that little girl again and to give her every opportunity in the world that I have? Yes. Do I still want so badly to know her name, to ask for it myself? Yes. Do I still want to take her out of the alley and provide basic necessities of life for her? Yes.
And she is still the driving factor behind the things I do. Her face is burned into my memory. Her dirty feet? They plague my thoughts. How can I help her? How can I make things better for her? For kids like her? What can I do? What could I possibly do? I would love to literally help HER, to do something that benefits HER. But if I can’t do anything for her, literally her… if I can do something that benefits the other hers and hims in the world… well, then I want to do that, too.
Talking with that friend tonight reinforced that. Reinforced so much. So much Truth came out of that one little conversation. My calling is made as clear as it can be made tonight. Help her. Help the hers and hims.
And so I will. And her story will be the reason.