The first days of teaching in Bangladesh I was familiarizing myself with my first grade class. As days turned into weeks I began to pick up on the children's different indivualities. Some could be helpful, demanding, sweet, loud, and others lazy. Yet none of them were like Brent, his desk impeccably clean, but he cheated on assignments, rarely gave eye contact and seemed ashamed and lost. On the playground he would observe at a distance or start fights with the other children. Brent did not seem to have a friend and with good reason.
Despite Brent's attitude my heart went out to him. My greatest desire was for this little boy to be happy. I began going to his bedroom at night and telling him good night and I loved him. For weeks it seemed as though I was getting nowhere. Often he would ignore me, staring straight through me, meticulously making his bed, or hiding under his blanket. I considered quitting, maybe I was trying to hard, or possibly I was the reason he was acting like this. I wondered if I should let him be. But I could not let him be. I wanted this boy to know what it was like to feel loved and not to be afraid to love.
One evening I walked back to by apartment, it was dark but the moon was bright and I could see Brent watching me from behind a rose bush. When I got to the bush I bent over picked him up, held him, and told him I loved him very very much. He tried turning his head so that I could not see his face but he was a little late, for the first time I saw him smile.
That night I lay in bed and thanked God. My prayers were beginning to pay off. I felt as though I had won a battle. I had just broken through a major barrier but there were still many difficulties lying ahead. The times Brent demanded, broke, bad mouthed, or just simply hated were many. I wondered how on earth a six-year old boy could possess so much anger. All I knew to do was love him.
The weeks prior to my leaving were filled with good memories of Brent. Often times I would look out my window and see him waiting for me to come play. We would walk around the campus hand in hand. He loved jumping over the small bushes that lined the sidewalks. So many times I found myself running along side him swooping him up into the air so he would clear the scratchy bushes. Sometimes he would come to my apartment and want his hair done. One time he helped me with my laundry. In the beginning I remember watching Brent during worships, he did not sing he just sat there with his head hung. He was happier now and I would often see him singing and doing the motions to the music. Each night I went to tell him good-night and give him a hug he would ask if he could kiss me good-night. Brent's kissing routine was one kiss on the forehead, then both my cheeks, nose, and chin. Sometimes he would sit on my lap outside his room as we would both watch the other kids play.
I love Brent very much, pray for him, miss him a ton. I don't know how Brent is doing now but I pray that he continues to love and be loved. "But the greatest of these is love"- 1 Corinthians 13:13
