Compassion-tears

I went on a missions trip to Nicaragua, which I could talk about for hours.. but months later a preschooler asked to see some pictures. She was so curious. So I brought a few pictures in and a few other girls gathered. I explained each picture briefly and generalized quite a bit too. While there are clean cities, clean running water, and kids with shoes and toys- I emphasized the lack of these things.  According to the U.S. Department of State, Nicaragua is the second poorest country on the Western side of the world. Almost half (46%) live below the national poverty line. And 16% live on less than $1.25 a day! With a population of 5.89 million, this leaves millions of people living in poverty. (These statistics were just to show that I didn't exaggerate the truth!)

The children were fascinated. We decided to all pray for the girls in one of the pictures I had, who were dirty and didn’t have many toys and whose families had very little money.

My preschoolers were getting antsy, and with the “Amen” in unison, they dispersed. However, one little girl stayed. She was crying. I thought that maybe she got bumped when the kids all ran to go play, so I asked her if she was hurt. She responded, “Yes, Sister Vanessa. My heart hurts.” She continued to cry, deep and heavy, real tears. I put her on my lap.

Now I was faced with a challenge. I had to try to explain to her that the feeling in her heart, though painful, is good. I had to explain that God wants us to care for others. So I began to do just that. As simply as I could think, I began to tell her that she is feeling compassion in her heart. I told her that compassion is when we care for others and want to help them. “Man #3” in my modern version of “The Good Samaritan” had showed compassion, which is a story I told some of the kiddies a few weeks prior. I told her that she was showing compassion just like Man #3. I told her that these were compassion-tears, and they were good. I told her that this was showing me that she was growing up.

She cried those compassion-tears for more than fifteen minutes. I cut out the picture, which she was holding and was now tear-stained. I wrote a little note to this preschooler on the back, reminding her that compassion-tears are good and that she should pray for these girls whenever she thinks of them.

Well, it had been a few weeks and the children gathered around me, wanting to hear the Man #3 story again. This time, when I got to the good part, the compassion part, the kids explained compassion to me! Other preschoolers gladly told me that their friend had compassion for the girls in Nicaragua. To which the little girl said, “Yes. Those girls have nothing. So I have compassion inside.”

No prodding. No bait. They knew. That little girl, and all her friends, they know compassion now. She gets it. And I get it too. I see the importance of teaching a child something worth learning.

The teacher in me loves these moments, where I can impact a little life. One of those kids may grow up to be a missionary, showing compassion every moment. Maybe not. Maybe they’ll be a teacher and tell this story to their students. Maybe not. Maybe they’ll be an amazing parent, instilling compassion into their children. Maybe not. (Of course I hope and pray that they do!)

But by teaching them about compassion, I learned. And that counts for something.

The 3 little girls are sisters in Nicaragua.
Their hands and faces were dirty, but they were so happy.
When I remember my trip to Nicaragua, it's these 3 faces that I see.