Hope

Simply doing something good isn't always good enough.

Yesterday we all headed over to a children's hospital in Rabat. We were told that we'd be handing out diapers, candy and some medications. I was pretty excited, because I haven't been involved with this kind of volunteer work since being in Morocco. I was eager to see what a hospital in Morocco might be like and I was just excited to be able to interact with the kids some and hopefully transmit some love and joy to them.

However, when we got there, it seemed like no one knew what was going on. Or what we should be doing. We stood in the hallway for a while and a nurse (I think?!) had us open our bags of diapers and ushered us into rooms to start handing out some diapers. I was carrying a candy bag, so eventually I was simply told to go into the rooms.

Each room had anywhere between two and six beds. A child generally lay or sit in bed with a parent or guardian sitting next to them. Many of them were sleeping, but I tried to interact with the few who were awake. I asked the parents about the the children's names and tried to have small conversations. But I felt completely unprepared and extremely inadequate... how to find the words to express hope or joy? How? How could I even expect to bring hope when I was ignorant of diagnoses, treatments, home lives and health histories? I soon felt overwhelmed.

One room I walked into brought tears to my eyes. I struggled to blink them away when I walked out. A mom watched her sick two year old. Her eyes seemed void of any hope and they were brimming with tears. I gently touched her shoulder and the tears spilled over.

Across from this sad mother was a father. His hands desperately held his son's hands. His son lay on the hospital bed, oxygen tubes helped him breathe. His small face was bruised, cut and swollen. Though he could have been asleep, my gut instinct was that he lay there unconscious.

And I felt silly offering them candy.

"Bgreeti? Do you want some?"

I wanted to reach up and grasp a slice of hope, a breath of fresh air. I wanted to offer them a hopeful diagnosis, a positive prognosis, resources in order to afford the treatment. A way out of the hospital.

Yet, I felt my tongue stick to the top of my mouth. I tried to blame it on the language barrier, but I'm not sure words would have come in English or in Spanish.

So I resorted to, "Bgreeti?"