tiny hands and dripping paint and muddy flipflops might seem like an atrocious mess but God, was it beautiful. these little members of my community, the ones that smile at you with their eyes and offer up love like there's no end to it, were there in their squiggly lines, enjoying the various crafts that our beloved Colorado team brought down. I got to be a part of the hand-printing mural and for me it was so so powerful...not because I'm super-psyched about painting hands, but because it was incredibly overwhelming to make these little ones a permanent part of our clinic. Placing those smudgy hands with their name neatly woven in ballpoint, right between those teensy fingers, was a joyous act, a commemoration, if you will. and not just because of the image that developed, but the profound look reflected in their eyes that says, this is mine. i am a part of this. I BELONG HERE.
I can't really convey through words the sweet swelling that balloons in my chest when I think about it...it's one of those emotions that fills, that soothes the raw edges and relaxes the tense places that come from doing this kind of work. it says, little by little, what we are doing, is helping form and shape these little ones, in a way that matters...just that pixel of change, that they would feel a part of and not just one who receives. it's these things, the small and often unnoticed attitude and value changes that tell me El Crucero will be different in a few generations. and who cares if I'm not here in those future generations, the best part is just knowing it will be different...and hopefully, a lot brighter.