Snuggled in Loving Arms
We were playing together. I would hide, she would find me, I would tickle her. I loved every minute of it, and her grin and giggle told me she did too. Then, as she ran around the corner, it happened. She ran her forehead straight into the corner of the metal window frame. I heard the thump and came around the corner to see her small hand clutching her forehead and her eyes filled with pain. But she didn’t shed even a single tear. Usually when a Ugandan child is hurt, they are immediately told not to cry, distracted from the pain, and sent away to continue playing. I can’t do that. I’m thankful for a mother who tenderly comforted me when I was in pain, and believe that is exactly what God would have me to do for these kids too. So I ran to her, knelt down and pulled her into my arms. Silently, she buried her face in my neck as her father watched on. With hand pressed against her swelling head, and face pressed against my shoulder, she quietly waited for the pain to reduce. If ice ...