"People are unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered. Love them anyway.
If you do good, people may accuse you of selfish motives. Do good anyway.
If you are successful, you may win false friends and true enemies. Succeed anyway.
The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway.
Honesty and transparency make you vulnerable. Be honest and transparent anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight. Build anyway.
People who really want help may attack you if you help them. Help them anyway.
Give the world the best you have and you may get hurt.
Give the world your best anyway."
- Mother Teresa
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Hollow Eyes
The intensity of these children’s emotions is quite startling and overwhelming.
But that sentence does not really mean what it sounds like. I just have not figured out the best way to word it.
When they smile and laugh it is as if a bright light has just lit up a pitch black room. It must be because they are usually so stoic.
So serious.
So when that smile bursts through, it is different than the normal, smiley, Western children I’m around. It really does make your heart jump a step—as if the light switch just got flicked on.
On the other hand, when they are sad or in pain—hold on to your heart because it might just break into a thousand pieces. That normally stoic face turns into a hollow well. You may think, “how can a normally stoic person show much pain or sadness?” Very easily, I tell you.
It is as if their eyes hollow out.
It is as if they are staring right through you, as if you do not exist.
Because there’s no way you can help them.
No one can ever help them.
They are so accustomed to the pain or sadness, they’ve realized there’s no hope that this current situation of pain could get better.
So they look into your eyes.
But there is nothing you can do to break through the stoic wall, like you can usually do when they are happy yet stoic.
The stoic wall of hopelessness, or deep sadness or pain, is a metal wall that surrounds them.
And their eyes have a way of cutting into you, even though it seems as if they are looking right through you.
Cutting through you with pain, hopelessness, indifference to anything joyful.
And then when they cry. . .
Oh the pain, the deep pain inflicted upon the hearer of the silent cry. The quiet cry.
They either stare at you with those hollow eyes, tears lightly streaming down their face
Or they hide their face and you can hear the slight whimper; the quick in-take of air. And it tells you that they are crying but they do not want you to know. You do not see much open, blatant crying here for children that are older than toddler age, unless from a serious injury or beating.
So they hide themselves.
And you can just hear the cry-breathing.
And what can you do?
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1 comment:
thank you Breaux. I have loved reading through your blog these past few months. Your transparency and raw perceptions are like solace to my often grieving soul.
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