Hajja Salesjana July-September 2022

hand, fist closed. I understood that he wanted to give me something in my hand. Certainly, I did not have any idea what it was. Perhaps it was a request? Maybe he was letting me know he needed something? The fact is I extended the palm of my hand and received what he gave me. I soon understood that he was offering me a gift—his gift. I looked at what he handed me, closed my hand, thanked him with words and a huge smile, and put it into my pocket. To end our farewell, he visibly handed me a piece of writing paper. You may wonder what this was all about— what was the gift and what was on the piece of paper. Let me share that with you right now. This boy—as I understand it—felt the need to thank me for having been there, perhaps for having greeted him, or being close to him and his friends, so he gave me what he could. The gift was simply a small stone, one of the thousands that were around on the ground, but one he had chosen to give to me. He gave me everything he could. That's how I received it. I have it with me now and with me it will remain. On the little piece of paper was written: “Pray fou (sic) you. My name is Sean Cayd.” Certainly, Sean offered me his prayer and remembrance. How could my heart not have been touched by that experience? How could I forget that face and those eyes full of life? How could I not ask myself what must have gone through that boy’s heart and mind for him to feel that he had to give something to me—a man from a foreign land who had come from afar to visit them? There are so many questions. Certainly, everything that happened has made me think much and deeply. It called to mind that scene in the Gospel in which the Lord Jesus praises Photo by Annie Spratt - www.unsplash.com Photo by Tim Trad - www.unsplash.com 33 Lulju - Settembru 2022 hajja