Beautiful and Beloved

       "Mademoiselle Katie!  Santia and Claudia are fighting!" yells one of my 1st graders as they are leaving school at the end of the day.
       I walk up to the small group of students and look at the two girls in question.  "I know you two are not fighting right now because you are MY students.  My students are beautiful, smart, and wonderful and they don't fight.  People who fight look ugly."  I cross my arms across my chest and ask them, "Now, are you going to keep fighting, girls?"
       "No!" they respond as they giggle and run off towards their houses.
       As I turn around to go back to my classroom, I can't help but smile to myself for having quickly diffused that situation.  However, my happiness only lasts for a moment until I hear another one of my first graders say something.  She had not been a part of the conversation about fighting, but she had clearly been listening nearby.
       "Well Mademoiselle Katie, I'm Haitian so I'm going to fight."  she says.
       I turn to see a slight smirk on her face as if she is waiting to hear what I am going to say in response.  "Just because you are Haitian does not mean you should fight."  I calmly tell her.
       Without missing a beat, she says, "I'm ugly, and you said ugly people fight.  So, I'm going to fight."
       That comment catches me off guard, and I take a step towards her.  "Why do you say that?  You aren't ugly.  You are beautiful"" I say to her with love and concern in my voice.
       As if she is talking about something as light hearted as the weather, she says, "I'm ugly.  My mama tells me that all the time.  She doesn't love me.  My papa loves me, but not my mama.  I'm ugly."
     I can feel my heart breaking inside my chest as I reach out and cradle her face in my hands.  "Listen to me," I tell her.  "You are not ugly.  You are beautiful.  Do you hear me?  You are beautiful.  You are beautiful.  God made you the way that you are, and you are beautiful.  Even if your mama tells you aren't, always remember that you are beautiful to me and to God."  I kiss her on the forehead and give her a quick hug.  The other classes are being dismissed now and even though I would like to hold her close and lavish her with encouragment and love, our conversation is interrupted and she turns to go home.


It was a conversation that lasted just a minute or two, but hours afterward I am still feeling its effects.  I feel it deep in my heart.  It stings.  No, it throbs.  Looking back on my childhood, I wonder what would it have been like to have the love, encouragement, and affection that I received from my parents replaced with condescending words or the all too frequent beatings?  I believe that it would have affected every relationship that I had in my life.  It would have changed the way I view others and my ability to trust.  I wonder, how is it affecting the way that she views the world?  What lies does she now believe about herself?

From the depths of my heart, I long for my students to know the same love that I received from my parents as a child.  I desire for them to be told each day that they are special, loved, and beautiful.  I want them to feel safe and protected.  As much as I try and as much as I want to, I cannot parent all of these children.  I cannot fill the voids in their hearts.

But, I can do my part.  I will show them love each day in every way I can.  I can hug them, wipe their tears, and speak words of life over them every opportunity that I get.  I can forgive them when they do wrong, and continue to love them just as Jesus did for me.  I know that my love for them will never be enough to cover the hurt that they have experienced, but my love will be a light.  It will pierce the darkness that surrounds them.  And one day, my students will eventually trace my light back to its source: The Light of the World.  The earthly love that I received from my parents was just a mere drop in the ocean compared to the tsunami of love that our Father wants to drown these children in (Matthew 7:11).

He knows everything about my students.  He knows when they sit down and when they rise.  He is familiar with all of their ways (Psalm 139:1-3).  He knew them before they were conceived (Jeremiah 1:4-5).  He chose them when he planned creation (Ephesians 1:11-12). He has numbered every hair on their heads (Matthew 10:29-31) and created them in His own image (Genesis 1:27).  They are fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14).

The pain that is in my heart for my students is being replaced by overwhelming joy.  In this life, my students are suffering.  But oh how lucky they are that their Father is pursuing their hearts everyday.  His eyes are fixed on them.  To some people they are worthless, but to Him they are His prize.