As the children work quietly at their desks I notice him. The quietest among in the room of sixteen little souls. I search for his name on the roll. Forgotten amidst the chaos of the morning. His movements timid. Almost fearful. Eyes darting up and around. Avoidance of being called upon? Perhaps.
I wonder. What experiences has his little life seen? What is home for him? Who is home for him? What makes a child almost cower like this one in front of my eyes?
So many possible reasons. Reasons I will never know. We may never know how or why someone is hurting.
How do you infuse a fearfully timid child with confidence? How do you show them how precious they are? How they have gifts and abilities? That they are fearfully and wonderfully made?
How do you speak truth into their little spirits? Make them believe in their abilities? How do you encourage them?
Just by loving them.
I will never know the background or home life of the little guy whose path I crossed. Most likely our paths will cross again, but my role is not meant to be a daily one.
Outside that sphere I will remain. Wondering. And when I pass him in the hall I’ll simply say a prayer. Not only a prayer for him, but also a prayer of thanks. Thanks for what God taught me through a timid little boy.