A Problem Like Maria

Last Monday in World History with my tenth grade students, one of my kids brought in a story that really moved us all. A little girl name Maria was injured in an air strike in Gaza about a year ago and she was paralyzed from the neck down. It was a case of mistaken identity. Her mother and older brother along with her grandmother and her uncle were all killed. Maria, Her father, and her younger brother were spared. We all sat silently as my student read to us about how this little girl and her father and brother have received charity from two Israeli doctors to pay for her hospital care up until now. She was moved to a highly specialized hospital for paralyzed children in Jerusalem. Her father stays with her 24/7 because he’s not allowed to leave the hospital. He’s not sure if he goes home if he’ll be allowed back to see his daughter.
My students were all really touched by this little girl’s story and so I asked them if they’d like to write to her and maybe paint her a picture or something. To which they replied “Mister, why can’t we go visit her?” I thought for a minute and I couldn’t come up with any good reason why we shouldn’t. It’s a real beautiful thing when high schoolers think outside themselves. It’s not inherent in their nature, so when it happens you know God is working. So I told them if my visa would come through I would take them. Well, our visas came through the very next day. When God is moving, get on board or get out of the way.
So Mandy, another one of the teachers, and I all pile in the little school van with 5 tenth grade girls and we head off to Jerusalem to visit this little girl. Just the sight of her made some of my girls cry and they had to leave the room. Maria is about 5 years old and although she is paralyzed from the neck down she is full of life and full of joy. My students collected themselves and showered this little girl with love for almost 3 hours! It was amazing. We told one of the girls that she should become a nurse because she spent the entire time caring for this little girl’s needs; doing her hair, painting her nails, even rubbing her eyes for her when they itched.
There was laughter all around accompanied by smiles and pictures, but at times the sadness was almost immobilizing. As I stared into this little girls face the reality of it was crushing to the spirit. Palestinians bomb the Israelis, so the Israelis defend themselves, but the defense carries too far, so the Palestinians kill again, so the Israelis kill again and so on and so on. If it sounds like a maddening cycle come stare into Maria’s big brown eyes and see how much more infuriating it is then. Come spend an hour with this little girl and tell her it’s her fault simply because she’s from a certain town.
I’m sitting there mulling this all over in my mind when one of my students says the most remarkable thing. “Mister Doug, ask if we can pray for her.” All of the sudden I realized I was doing it again. I was thinking of how we can ‘solve the whole problem,’ when Jesus’ call to us is not to solve every problem. His call to us is to love one another. So we asked her family and they agreed. We circled around this little girl and I began to pray. And as we stood there, it hit me: A bunch of Christians circled around a little Muslim girl in a Jewish hospital. This is what it’s all about. This is the love of Christ crossing borders and boundaries. We didn’t “solve” anything but we made a difference in Maria’s life. The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.