The warm sunbeams danced relentlessly amongst the oak tree’s leaves overhead, fading the dark green leaves to chartreuse with the slightest of breeze as they caught the sun’s brilliant light. Wrestling leaves whispered overhead while a rainbow of colored art supplies sprinkled the table below, and whinnies of horses in the nearby pastures and the stable just off to my right sang harmony as I knelt on my knees at the art table facing an 11 year old boy whom I just met.
He looked like an average 11 year old boy, lanky with dark hair and eyes and a crooked smile that immediately endeared me to him. He wore a t-shirt and shorts, revealing the brace on his leg. I never learned exactly what his disability was, something to do with his muscles, but honestly, it doesn’t matter. He had come to Raven Rock Ranch this day expecting to work; but instead was asked to do art with me. He was readily compliant and walked to the table and then just stood. His arms hung heavy at his sides as his eyes took in the array of colors. He didn’t say a word at first, but his lips would purse and then pull taught and his eyebrows furrowed and lifted as if he were in deep thought for several moments. And then suddenly, a sigh escaped and he picked up a green oil pastel.
I had come with a specific art project in mind for the kids, but upon seeing his anxiousness about art in general, I decided to skip it, follow his lead, and work more intentionally on building a relationship with him. I picked up an orange oil pastel and started to draw. “I don’t know how to do it. I don’t know how to draw. I really don’t know how to do any art.”, he said in a single breath. I laughed, trying to break the tension, and said, “What a relief! Neither do I! Maybe together we can make something pretty cool”. We decided to make an alien, taking turns drawing each body part and article of clothing. It was a messy colorful creature that had one eye, a tongue sticking out the side of his head; one long arm and one short arm. He was also nearly circle in shape with two short legs. It was quite the sight, I assure you! We talked as we drew and I learned that Samuel loved sports. I mean really loved sports. Soccer is his all time favorite. He could ramble off players, teams, trades, scores and the like. We decided to make our alien a soccer player.
Looking at this finished creation, I said, “If this is a soccer player, he needs someone to play against. We should make another alien”. Feeling more relaxed about the process of creating, he agreed. We took turns drawing each element of our creature again and talked more about sports and his dream to become a soccer player. My heart sank as I listened to his grand plans, knowing his disability would not allow him to play the way he dreamed. Nearly complete with our drawing, I handed him the oil pastel to draw the legs. He drew one long leg and one short leg. It seemed to suit our crazy creature, but I couldn’t help but to see the personal connection he was making to this creature. In the end, this alien had a football shaped head, one eye, the neck of a giraffe, muscular arms with two uneven legs.
We named our players crazy made up names and laughed about how silly they looked. Samuel kept talking about sports and without thought, picked up an oil pastel and drew a goal and a soccer ball off to the side. I asked, “If the two were really playing, who do you think would win?” He pointed to the first, nearly circular alien. I looked at him, questioning his choice, while pointing to the other alien telling him I bet this one would win. Samuel quickly refuted my vote by pointing to his uneven legs and said in an almost in urgent tone, “He would not be a good player. He would probably lose the game for the whole team”. I pointed out his long neck and gigantic eye and told him that he would be able to see everything and be able to tell his teammates where to go, what to do, and such. “He would be the most valuable player for sure”! Samuel still disagreed, but then was silent. He set his pastel down, hung his arms to his sides and fixed his eyes on the player with uneven legs. I could see that he was not going to leave that conversation under the oak tree that day, but take it with him, perhaps pondering his own value.
Although the Lord was unwrapping something so profound for him to see, to accept about himself, I knew it hurt. Wanting to encourage him, I shared with him that my husband, Mr. Dennis, was once the star pitcher for his baseball team and had played for 13 years, never missing a game. He had such talent that he was awarded a scholarship to play in college. Though playing was Mr. Dennis’ first love, as he got older, he could not play like he used to, like he wanted to. Years later he helped coach a team for our church and as it turned out, Mr. Dennis made a terrific coach. His love for the sport equipped him to see all positions, read the body language of the opposing team and make wise calls. Coaching was just as important as play and incredibly fulfilling. Samuel looked solemn, nodded his head and said, “Yeah, if I can’t play, coaching or being an announcer might be kind of fun”. I sat back on my knees, awestruck by the work the Lord was doing in that very moment in this boy’s life. It is my hope that he sees his value and learns his true identity. He is loved, He is accepted. He is valued. He is wanted. He is treasured. And it has nothing to do with his ability or disability.
Later that day, while driving home, my heart was burdened for Samuel and several other children I had the opportunity to do art with that day. I witnessed their hurt, their lack of self worth, their insecurity, anxiousness, and fears. My heart has always wept for these children, but today some of these children now have faces and names. My heart bids me to pray on their behalf constantly and that lump in my throat seems to be ever present. Driving home, my mind wrestled with the hurt and in my human mind, I searched for more ways to help when I heard (not audibly) “Just pray. Just keep praying”. God has a perfect plan for each of these children. Jeremiah 29:11 tells us that it is not to harm them, but to prosper them and to give them a hope and a future. I love the verses that follow: “Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with your whole heart. I will be found by you, declares the Lord, and bring you back from captivity…”
It has only been a few days, but I can still see the brilliance of those oak leaves glimmering in the sun. And as I sit here, in front of my large picture window that looks out to a forest of trees, I am reminded that each of these majestic trees started out as a small seed. I cannot help but to see the children at RRR as little acorns. They are in the deep dark soil feeling as if they will always be there, perhaps feeling frightened, alone, not able to trust, perhaps paralyzed either by past experiences or the unknown future. But God’s plan is that they will one day grow into a great oak, strong, vibrant, and full of life; praising Him for giving them hope through Raven Rock Ranch and a future in Him.
