“I wondered how the poverty, the lack of good food and good housing would affect me; I was afraid of becoming depressed by the misery I would see. But God showed me something else first: affectionate, open, and playful children who are telling me about love and life in ways no book was ever able to do. I now realize that only when I can enter with the children into their joy will I be able to enter also with them into their poverty and pain. God obviously wants me to walk into the world of suffering with a little child on each hand.” -Henri Nouwen, Gracias

Interspersed between language learning and cultural adjustment, the most significant moments of my time thus far in Nicaragua have involved children. The students in San Geronimo who crowded around me during a visit one day asking me word after word in English, offering me treats, and eager for hugs. The little children in San Ramon, a tiny community outside Leon I visited last week with a neighbor. Despite dirty faces and matted hair, these children greeted me with smiles and kisses. Their meager circumstances did not prevent them from proudly introducing us to their perro, and her 6 perritos. The simple joy with which they played in the dirt and loved on their pets left me humbled and speechless. When have I ever been able to forget what I didn't have and live in the moment?

And then of course there is Majurie.

While walking along the beach with some friends, we saw a Nica girl selling jewelry and trinkets. I wasn't planning on buying anything, but our negative responses did not deter her. Even after we refused her, she continued to walk alongside us until I started talking to her. Marjurie is 11 years old—she had long dark hair, and wore a light t-shirt and white cotton pants that she had rolled up to keep them from touching the sand. She told me her favorite subject in school is math and that she lives with her mother and sister and brother in town—and that her dad had already died. With a smile that could light up the darkest room, she told us stories of how whales washed up on the beach and were eaten by snakes, and how she likes to swim.

Finally I stopped and took another look at her bowl and decided to buy a necklace. I thought that was going to be the end of it, but even after the transaction, Majurie continued to walk with us. Eventually my friends and I stopped and sat down, and Majurie sat down with us. As we talked in English, Majurie watched us with great amusement, and began playing in the sand. First she drew creations in the semi-wet sand, then began to dig a hole in which she buried my friend Kathy's feet. After a while all of us were covered in sand, but before we could walk down to the water, Majurie emptied out her pink bowl of trinkets and ran down to fill it with ocean water. When she brought it back, she offered it to us to clean off our hands, and when none of us seemed capable of successfully removing the sand completely, she did it for us.

How often in my life have I treated relationships like transactions? How often in my life have I chosen a task over a friend? When have I served for the simply joy of being with the one whom I am serving? How many opportunities have I missed learning from someone because I assumed they had nothing to teach me? When did I give with no expectation in return?

“And a little child will lead them...”