The Big Hug

We have been living and working in the Holy Land since 1978. Recently, an event happened that deeply affected me.

One afternoon, there was a knock on our door. A man, whom I did not recognize, and a woman stood at the door. They asked if Pastor Munir was at home. I hesitantly invited them inside.

When inside, the stranger immediately gave me a bear hug and then he literally buried his face in my neck for an extended period.

I was taken aback and thought, “Who is this crazy man that is breaking all the cultural rules and mores by hugging me like this? He should not be doing this.”

It took a bit to sort out. He had been in the boys’ home 15 years ago. He remembers me as being his surrogate mother. I took care of him when he was sick, baked cookies, made spaghetti most Sundays, hid Easter eggs, and played Mrs. Santa Claus at Christmas for years. I was a there when he needed a mother. Thus the hug.

Boys change a lot between 15 and 30, and I did not recognize him. Now he came and visited us, who are an important part of his life, to see us and show us his fiancé. He wanted us to see how well he has done and be proud of our "son". We rejoiced with him.

I was glad that I helped him when he needed it. Not until I get to heaven and watch the video of my life will I once again see, and hopefully remember, all of the things I did as a missionary.

However, it is nice to get a hug as a thank you.

The Child is Father of the Man

Wordsworth wrote “The child is father of the man …” The experiences that we have as children determine the type of adults we become. I think of this when I look at the boys in the home and how their childhood experiences will affect them as adults.

----I remember one boy who had a face that looked like it was horribly scarred by a hot liquid. After a bit in the home, we realized all the scars were nothing but a very advanced case of ringworm that had been neglected, and his face cleared up with treatment (Although since it is very contagious, we had mini-cases of ringworm for several months popping up on the other boys too).

----I remember one boy whose brother had been killed in political events here. His heart was full of bitterness, but today he is in Bible College preparing for a life in the ministry.

----I remember the 4-year old boy who knew where I hid the chocolate chip cookies in my house. With him I felt I was doing my job, passing out chocolate chip cookies and love.

----I remember the boys that came hurting, and full of despair, and today are competent adults.

----I remember one boy who had been deserted by his parents and was living with his 84 year old grandmother in a single room with neither electricity nor running water. When he came to the home, he sat on a chair and stared at me, wondering what this American was doing in Ramallah. I threw a pillow at him and we were immediately fast friends. For my birthday he used his own meager spending money and bought be the biggest, ugliest, conical birthday hat. I wore it proudly, and still keep it on a special shelf to remind me of him. However, his family kept on interfering and destroyed his future. There was abuse, and the boy left the home to work to help provide for and to protect his mother. It is terrible when children have to take care of adults. We eventually lost him, and could not help him anymore and his life has been going downhill.

Those are the ones that are like a stab wound in my heart of hearts.