August 3, 2015

Searching the Obvious

Lina, 6 years old, has her priorities right. Today Lina’s mother is taking her to visit her friend Chelsea and play for a while.

Earlier Lina’s mother, Alayne, called for help. She is an artist who needs assistance writing descriptions for her paintings. She admitted that inspiration is low. Brush and canvas perched on her window, she says, “I just need to see something beautiful.” She invites me to come along and visit Chelsea. Absolutely!

That was before the crayon disaster.

. . . .

“It was here. I know it was here,” Lina kicks a doll out of the way. Then she apologizes: “I didn’t kick it out of anger; it was just in the way.” I can’t help smiling.

She begins to open drawers, and I ask if I may help. She stops, turns to me, picks an object from her nightstand, and holds it up for me to see. A crayon. She tells me that during drawing time in school she shares a pink, chunky crayon with Chelsea. That crayon is somewhere in the room.

She looks at me with tears in her eyes: “Chelsea’s crayon box doesn’t have pink. She lost it. So I threw mine away and brought one from home so we could share! Please help me.”

“God,” Lina prayed, “Please help me find it. . . .Please, please, it’s just a crayon.”

I look under the bed where one shoe and dust bunnies reside. In the closet we search the floor, and although it is inconceivable that she might have left the crayon on the top shelf of the closet, she makes me check anyway. As we empty a box of Legos I hear Lina pray: “God, please help me find it. Chelsea is my best friend. We share. Please, please, it’s just a crayon.”

Earlier Alayne shared that Chelsea’s family was poor, and under the guise of their daughters’ friendship she always kept an eye on them: food, clothes, and school supplies. “I want my daughter to help others, and that desire starts now.”

Got it!” Lina yells as she shakes her comforter. The crayon is airborne, landing on the floor after hitting my forehead. Lina laughs and holds the crayon up, talking to God: “I knew You’d help me, even though You’re real busy.”

Alayne carries two small briefcases with everything a child would need to become a Picasso. She told me Lina traded her birthday gift, a bike, to purchase these supplies instead. Inside the home we hear the screams of two best friends reuniting. joy.

Lina sits quietly for a moment, then pulls from her pocket the pink crayon we searched for. In a soft voice, almost a whisper, she says: “Even though we have pink in our crayon boxes, I think we should still share this, don’t you think?” Chelsea smiles and gives Lina a hug as they begin to draw and talk.

“I think this is the ‘one beautiful moment’ you needed for inspiration,” I say to Alayne. She smiles and nods, pulling a small sketchbook and pencil from her purse.

As the girls laugh I wonder how their guardian angels must revel in such beauty. I see Alayne quickly sketching. This is a visual snapshot I will not forget.

One beautiful moment, courtesy of the Holy Spirit.