Shadows

The babies were unusually restless and unhappy yesterday.

A couple new little ones have joined the others as well. One being Ronaldo; now making that two Ronaldos in the nursery. He's a stunning guy with a head full of jet black hair and a ready smile; he is somewhere between four and five months old. The other new little guy is roughly around two months old. His name is so different, that I can't recall it at the moment, but I like to call him 'the little chap.' He looks like an old man, or a dried apple, puckered and wizened. His features are so tiny and his eyes so dark, and his body so unhealthy and scrawny, he barely looks human. He looks to me like what an elf would look like- if there were elves. His eyes seem to portray a look, a look as if he possesses some wisdom or knowledge that I don't know of. He sleeps nearly all day, but when he is awake, he glances around with such somberness and knowingness as if he already lived his life and has hundreds of stories hidden away that he could tell. I wonder why he was abandoned. Mabye his mother couldn't afford him? Mabye it was an unwed pregnancy. But mabye....he just wasn't wanted.

Yesterday was a special day. One of the new nurses had brought her guitar. After the little ones were fed and changed and settled into their drowsy afternoon playtime, she took her guitar and sat on the floor amoungst them. I don't think I have ever seen a guitar quite like that one. It was battered and broken and as out of tune as possible; the strings were loose and couldn't be tightened anymore. But, she really knew how to play. She played some random chords at first to warm up, getting the attention of the feister toddlers, who crawled and scooted over to inspect this new toy. And then suddenly, she burst into song. She sung one after another, some even in Quechua, songs I have never heard before. It was beautiful. I think a true musician can create beauty with anything...even with a dissionate and broken instrument. She captured the attention of everyone. Even some of the smallest babies watched her, captivated...listening. As I sat there watching them, I doubted whether many babies back home would have been so absorbed in something like this. They are usually always held, cuddled, given attention and love, and they always have an abundance of toys and distractions. But, these children! They watched her in fascination as if they were watching Blue's Clues or Baby Einstien.

It was beautiful.