A Little Girl Named Sabrina... by Sarah Lyon

Sabrina Beckford is a little girl I've known since before she was born. At 8 years old, she is an endless bundle of energy with an insatiable vigor for life. Sabrina's mother abandoned her when she was but 5 1/2 months old, and she has been raised by her father, Jude, and his family. Wednesday afternoon Sabrina came back to our room after VBS to spend time with us and play with my little girl, Sophie. She complained of a headache, and within less than 5 minutes, she was crying and shivering on the bed. Her temperature had skyrocketed and it looked as if she was coming down with the flu. Amy packed up her belongings and carried her downstairs into Burt's van so that I could help get her home. I cradled her barefoot, feverish body in my lap as we maneuvered the potholes that occupy the streets here. Not half a mile down the road and we had to pull over because she was sick. When I carried her back into the bus the tears were streaming down her face and she was mumbling something I couldn't quite understand, so I asked her to speak up. 'I won't get to go to church tonight.' In the midst of a spiked fever, stomach virus, and the chills, the only thing on her mind was missing church that evening and VBS the following day. As we pulled up to her grandparents' house and I carried her into the room she shares with her cousin and grandfather, I laid her limp body down and kissed her forehead. The day was scorching hot. There is no a/c, and there were no fans. The air was stale, stagnant and suffocatingly hot in there, and again all she mumbled was 'I want to go to church tonight'. Oh, to have the perspective of that 8 year old girl. I fought the tears as I quietly stepped back into the van. She cared nothing about herself or her current state of physical misery. She focused not on the simple accommodations where she stays most of the time. There were no popsicles to cool her off, no pedialyte, gatorade, or saltine crackers, no movies to get her mind off of her discomfort or mother nearby to feed her ice chips - and still all she cared about was being around God's people. Moments like these are abundant here. Moments that jolt me and keep me grounded. Moments that urge me to take the focus off myself in the midst of a world that is obsessed with itself. Friends are often surprised and speak of how committed we must be for going to more than one church service each week. In truth it is hardly a commitment. I give a few hours out of my week - Christ was committed to the point of death. There are also those who speak of how uncomfortable it must be to spend two weeks here each summer laboring in the heat; and while these days are long and the work is challenging, it is hardly a sacrifice. Christ endured more discomfort than I will ever know in order for me to have the chance of Heaven. My life is not about me. It is not about how many material possessions I can collect, or my perpetual happiness. My life is about serving others just as Christ did. I pray that even when life gets rocky or my present situation is not ideal, that I will hold the same attitude that sweet Sabrina did and remember that there are far more important things to focus on than the wellbeing of Sarah Lyon. There are a million reasons I make the journey to Jamaica each summer. Yes, I come to teach the children, but as is the case each year, the children always teach me far more.