Her tiny cry pierced the air in the not so quiet Goodwill late Saturday afternoon. Not many people seemed to notice, but my eyes darted quickly around the room to find the source and my lips formed into a small smile.
She was brand new.
I passed her several times while browsing the skirts, checking the shoes and waiting for those who were shopping with me. The women attending her were of various ages and the sort of people one might label rough.
Her small, helpless, pleading cry continued.
The woman holding her carelessly flopped her around while scolding, "Hush up, quit crying." The one who appeared to be the Mother acted put out, but completely uncaring as she poked at the purses on the wall and advised her Companions coming out of the dressing room. The Holder walked around impatiently patting her on the back with more force than most would ever dream of using on one so little.
And her little cry grew louder in my heart.
Everything in my soul wanted to give her comfort and love like she had never known before. My arms ached with every cry to hold her and give her, even for a moment, a sense of security. My mind began imagining the life she will lead, the people that will be around her and the type of love that will be shown to her.
She is not the only one crying for love.
How many brand new ones are there desperate for love? How many will hear harsh words when all they need is a tender song? How many are lonely? How many are afraid?
There are many brand new ones, little people, children who will grow up spiritual orphans. They will have parents, but no love. They will have food, but no nourishment. They will cry and who will listen?
These times of grave insight and, what I believe is to me, visions of how God sees the world are few and far between. I am grateful when God gives them. When I am tempted to fall into a pattern of mediocrity or apathy it is like He grabs my shoulders, looks into my face and firmly commands, "Open your eyes! Wake up!"
Her cry will continue to echo in my heart.