Naiyan is from a nearby village in Southern Thailand that G and T often visit. We met her during a Sunday School outreach program. She never spoke, so we didn’t know her name. I’ve called her Naiyan here, which means “eyes.”
Read part one, part two, part three, and part five here.
I’m not used to seeing scars on children.
She stands still, eyes glazed over as the other children run and play around her. Her dress has slipped off one tiny shoulder and her hair is pulled up into a bun that some wisps of hair have escaped from. I crouch down in front of her and smile.
She just looks at me with a blank stare.
A while later, Alexis, one of our summer interns, is holding her, helping her eat a peanut butter sandwich. She holds Naiyan's pink lemonade and makes silly faces at the small girl who still gives no reaction.
I snap a photo.
Alexis meets my gaze. I can read the look on her face instantly.
I try to smile but tears appear instead.
“Are these bruises?” Alexis asks quietly.
I look at Naiyan's legs. So many purple marks I can’t count.
It’s hard to tell with all the other scars on her legs.
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
We look at each other. Our faces say more than our words can.
Naiyan stares over Alexis’ shoulder. I wonder what she sees.
Please pray for kids like Naiyan and that they would experience the way that Jesus sees them, whole and loved.