The Little Girl in the Yellow Dress

She's taught me so much. I learn from her each day. I do not know her name, nor exactly where she lives.

She is a tiny Indian girl, caught by the camera of a photographer. I "met" her when her image filled the large screen at the Leadership Summit Marlin and I attended in August. The speakers were showing us the desperate need of children in the east, and my heart twisted in pain as I watched the drama unfold.

Totally unaware of a photographer nearby, she paused on the dark and dirty street. I was captivated by her tiny figure; no more than four years old, maybe only three. I saw my little girls' faces in her beautiful brown one, framed by lovely black hair. She wore a vivid yellow dress, the only bright spot in the scope of the camera lens. No adult or older child accompanied her. No one. I never noticed she carried a blanket until she began to spread it on the ground, walking around it to deliberately smooth out all four corners. The spot she chose was close to another figure lying on the ground and covered with a blanket. I could see it was someone much bigger than she. She paid no attention to whomever was lying there, but I wondered if subconsciously it was a small comfort to have someone else nearby.

Her blanket fixed to her satisfaction, she picked up a small pillow off the ground that she had also carried with her, lay down, and curled into a semi-fetal position with only the thin blanket between her and the hard ground. She had nothing to cover herself with; no one to kiss her and hug her.

Tears spilled down my cheeks as I watched. There were none on hers. She went about her bedtime ritual of finding a spot to sleep and smoothing out her blanket so nonchalantly.

I don't know who she is. But through the lens of a camera, she has touched my heart so deeply....so deeply, it broke that day in the dark auditorium, and unlike some other sorry scenes I've witnessed, I can't forget about her. Why? Is it because she was so small, so vulnerable? Maybe. Or maybe it is because my heart was soft and open and uncluttered that day. I really, honestly don't know. I just know God asks me to wrestle with her story, to pay attention, and to allow it to become part of me. I don't do life quite like before I met her.

I see her when I glance longingly at the beautiful leather furniture pictured so vividly in the mail flyers, or when I sweep our 25 yr old floors a bit grudgingly, or wish the girls' bedroom furniture would all match. I see her in mid-conversation with friends about how lovely it would be to have a lake front home. I see her when we tuck our kids into their clean, cozy, warm beds at night, when I hold them close and plant soft kisses in their hair. I see her when our family talks about our birthday gift to Jesus this Christmas.

She has taught me so much, this little girl in yellow. Through her, God nudges me away from greed and envy toward contentment and thankfulness. Because of her, and often for her, I hold my own little girls just a bit longer, a bit tighter. The day I got that tiny glimpse into her story, my heart expanded to a level of compassion I didn't know I was capable of. Our family prays for her - prays for her to have someone to hug her, kiss her, and tuck her into a safe bed at night. We ask God to give her food. We pray someone will tell her about Jesus and that one day she will be able to do for kids what no one did for her. And I still cry when I think of her. If I had mascara on now, it would be running in black streaks down my cheeks, just like the day I first saw her.

She doesn't know. She is oblivious to how profoundly God has used her to make a difference within me, and maybe within thousands of others a world away who saw her on the screen that day. She had - literally - nothing. Maybe not even a bowl of rice in the last 24 hours. Only a blanket, a pillow and a bright yellow dress.

You know what, there are days when I feel like that, too - like I have nothing - nothing that would really make a difference to the world. I hold nothing in my hands that I can wield to get things done on a grand scale - no power of influence or prestige, no great sums of money, no fame.... just dreams in my heart. Dreams I share with Marlin of ways we can change and impact our broken world just a little bit. And sometimes the reality of those dreams seems like a far off distant speck on the horizon that never moves closer. But you know something else? Somehow I expect that even these days when all I have to offer to God and the world is dreams and just living in trust and contentment, it is enough. He will multiply my nothing for great impact. I know He can because I've seen Him do it - through a little girl in a yellow dress.