A prayer for Daniel

Sometimes I feel he has the world against him. One of seven children, this twelve year old’s family became one of my largest challenges in Jamaica it seems as soon as I stepped foot in their yard. Living in a one room board house without electricity or running water, the zinc roof spattered with holes for the rainwater to soak through, and the inside of the dwelling dark and moldy from the damp mattresses and clothing, the family of nine shares two full-size beds on a rotating sleep schedule.

The children are the troublemakers at school, starting fights, stealing money, bullying other children. They are, after all, a product of their upbringing. Their only known defense, to fight back, is often in full force and a result of being made fun of all their lives by other children and families for their smelly breath, dirty, tattered clothing, lack of lunch money, or untrimmed hair.

Trying to follow the advice of, "it's not right, its not wrong, its just different", I tried to see past the neglect, the anger, the hunger, and the community’s shunning of this struggling family by visiting with a smile and an open heart, regardless of the looks I would receive from neighbors as I embarked down to the “house”.

But something about Daniel has stuck with me. The kids smile is worth a million bucks. Every time I see him, that priceless smile sweeps across his face like a flash and I wish he were only a small child so I could lift him into my arms, embrace him and tell him he is special. He’s at the age where he thinks he is just so cool. It really makes me laugh, when he greets me with this handshake like I am one of the boys. He wants to recognize me, but doesn’t want to seem uncool to his friends, always trying to keep face. So I play along, chuckling all the while, at how uncool I feel playing this twelve year old game. Our hands collide with two flicks of our thumbs and he’s off in the opposite direction, as quickly as he came.

The other day I had an art project in mind for Grades 5 & 6. Using only scraps of paper and glue, I wanted them to use their imagination to create a picture. Incredibly apprehensive at first, Daniel sat alone until I practically dragged him to a small group of his classmates to work with. I kept walking around the class as their creativity grew, layering torn white pieces for clouds, assembling scraps as flowers, using their imagination as instructed.

I walked over to Daniel. He had made quite a mess, but cut up yellow paper into tiny shards and pressed them on a glob of glue in the corner to make a 3D sun. He had even ventured outside to collect small pebbles to paste onto the bottom for the ground, along with some grass. Each time I walked by, he lifted his paper carefully with that wonderfully innocent smile, so proud of his work. And I was surely proud too!

At one point while making the rounds, I thought of a way to make the pictures 3D. So I walked over to Daniels group, and there on his paper, he had added the silhouette of a man to his already unique creation. As I said, “I have an idea…” my eyes drifted Daniel pasting a single, thin scrap of paper from the mans torso to his forehead on one edge, to depict a 3D arm!

“You are just so smart, Daniel! I am so proud of you!” I exclaimed. His eyes lit up. I do not know how often he hears that and believes it. All the other kids came to look at his artwork, oowing and awing, ready to take some ideas back to their own creation.

Many evenings as I sit and reflect upon my life here in Jamaica, the friends that have become like family, the children that have touched my heart in a way I thought impossible from once strangers, my mind drifts and then settles usually on one. Lately, it has been Daniel. I pray for Daniel, and for all the children who are up against such suffering. I pray his creativity continues to grow and he perseveres without anger, but with resilience instead. I pray he always feels loved and allows himself to be loved. I pray this for so many children, like Daniel, who seem to have the world going against him.

Resilience.