I
mentioned to the class that I was moving to Germany soon.
One of
the students perked up and spoke.
“Miss,
I’m moving to Cocoa Beach this weekend. This is my last day.” Scarlet looked at
me and smiled softly. She was a student in a class where I was substituting and
had been for about two months.
“Really?”
I said. “Why are you moving there?”
“I’m
going to live with my cousin. I’m getting out of foster care.”
“Well,
I’m moving to Germany for my grandchildren.” It was the end of class so I
showed her a picture of them in a book of snapshots my son had made of their
summer vacation with us. “Here they are right here.”
“Can I
look at your whole book?” She asked.
“Of
course,” I replied.
She
flipped the pages and looked at all the pictures until she froze on one page
and her eyes opened wide with shock.
“Sophia
Maria.” She said. “Who is this?”
“That’s
my grandchild that was a miscarriage.” I replied.
A tear
trickled down her face. “That’s the name I picked out for my baby.”
“Your
baby?” Now it was my turn to be shocked.
“You’re having a baby?”
“Yes.”
She lifted up her list with the name circled.
“Don’t
worry!” I said. “I’m sure yours will be born and it will be just fine.”
I gave her a pat on the arm. But I couldn’t
help but feel a sinking feeling inside. “I will be praying for you.” I
whispered as my eyes moistened, too.
She tried
to smile and whispered “thanks”.
Next
period, I showed them the book again and this time Griselda was looking at the
miscarried baby with much interest.
“How far
along, Miss, was this one?” She said pointing to the picture.
“5 ½
months.” I replied noting her swelling belly and assuming she was pregnant too.
“Mine
was the same age.”
“Did you
have a miscarriage too?”
“Yes,
Miss. His name was going to be Pedro. I had him at age 16. I guess I was too
young. Now, its 2 years later and I’m older. I’m hoping everything will be okay
this time. I’m due in January.”
“And
it’s the same father?”
“Yes.”
She smiled a sad smile.
“What
about school?”
“I’ll be
done with school by then. I graduate the end of December.”
I looked
at her and wished I could hug her. Maybe I could give her a shower gift. Maybe
tell her the good news of Jesus and how much he loved her. Somehow, I wanted to
reach out and tell her everything would be okay for her, too.
“I’m
praying for you.” I just said.
She
smiled again and whispered, “Thanks.”
Children
having children will only bring heartbreak. But I can pray for them and hope
for the comfort of God.
You can
too; we all can too.
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