There was this little boy who instantly captured my attention and shortly thereafter my heart. I would pass him several times on a street corner in the city of Paris. He captured my heart with his huge brown eyes as he sat there with his mother and infant sister.

His mother seemed very attentive to her beloved children , though seemingly she could not meet their needs in daily life. If for any reason she was not in need, it didn`t matter to me, those beautiful brown eyes of the precious little boy will always be in my memory. On one passing I asked his mother if I could give him a coin for himself, and she smiled gently and graciously allowed him to receive the offering from me. 

It occurs to me that we most often do not know a person`s needs. Does it matter if we feel drawn to share from our hearts? It is only by the grace of God that we are not sitting on a street corner anywhere, needing someone to care, someone to smile. It’s all too common in our present age to spend time deciding if this person, these people, are trying to dupe us out of our often small offering. How often have we allowed ourselves to be taken out of the realm of compassion?

Five years later

Where has this little boy gone? Is he safe, is he well? I’ll never know but my heart still knows what I felt when I first saw those tender, deep brown eyes looking up at me. I remember him in prayer and give thanks for having encountered such a precious little boy.

All of our lives have changed drastically in these past few years. Many of us are living realities we once thought would never be a part of our story. No, we don’t live on the streets of Paris or in the war-torn country of Ukraine but we are all in need of the compassion of others at one time or another. We know what it means when someone cares enough to acknowledge us. There is no one who does not have need of compassion.

I can remember as if it was yesterday a beautiful spring day in my grandparent’s neighborhood when out of nowhere a man appeared with a beautiful pony all saddled up. What little girl, what child, does not respond to such a sight? It turned out that for a small fee, you could dress up like a cowgirl or a cowboy and have you picture taken. 

There was little doubt that my grandparents would have me partake of this grand adventure. That picture still has a prominent place in my home and most especially in my heart. What a difference it makes when we experience that kind of a childhood ,with the deepest sentiment of all being the love it took for my grandparents to care that much for my little heart’s desire. The truth is, even if circumstances would not have allowed me to partake of this amazing opportunity, I would never have doubted their love for me.

My precious little brown eyed, dark skinned little boy on the streets of Paris likely won’t know such adventures but I can only hope that he knows the love of adoring parents and of strangers who looked into his eyes and cared. How he changed me, and admittedly I am often not as aware of these things as I carry on my day-to-day life. I often notice but can become easily distracted as I scurry along. 

Yesterday, while writing this piece, I noticed on an adjacent parallel street, a person riding their bicycle with a small carrying sack which most likely held all of their earthly possessions. As I turned to look at my screen, I lost sight of him and suddenly realized that I had allowed my distraction to take me from the prayer I had planned to pray for this person. I still prayed. 

What are their stories? Is anyone missing them? How can we continue our lives without hope for a better future for all? All belong to someone even if they had long disappeared from those family and friends. Does it matter if they were involved in drugs or a fatal overdose? Does it matter if their lives fell apart from any number of circumstances? 

When we consider anything less than compassion for those lost souls, we too have become lost. We too have forgotten how to care.