Much More than Enough

by

Hope.

The four letter word that is sculpted out of metal on my favorite ring. The ring I haven’t taken off my left hand for the past two years. The word I promote on my body each day.

Hope.

The word I struggled to explain to a 13-year-old orphaned boy. This simple, complex word carries so much weight, so much depth but I couldn’t find the words to articulate its meaning. As he pointed to my ring with a curious look on his face, I found myself at a loss for words. How ironic, the one word I can’t explain is the word I hold so closely to. How in the world could I explain this small, powerful word to a boy who spoke mainly Arabic and knew hardly any English? A word that I hold so near to me. A word that this boy and the rest of the children we visited in the orphanage of Meknés need so much of.

From the moment we entered the wide double doors of the orphanage in Meknés, it was chaos. This otherwise large courtyard felt very small with all the Moroccan children (mostly boys) running up to us from all directions, surrounding us with big smiles and hands out, eager to introduce themselves and to learn our names. Laughter and squeals of joy filled the space while I tried to navigate my way through the sea of children grabbing and touching each of us, pulling us in different directions. These kids were thirsty for attention, for someone to notice them.

Despite the loss and abandonment these children must have faced in their short lifetime, they had a type of energy and joy that I would have never expected to have walked into that day at the orphanage. Our short time spent with these children passed quickly with laughter, games of soccer, teaching them how to hula hoop, and trying to talk with them despite the language barrier we had to cross. Our time with these sweet children was short but will live in our hearts for a lifetime.

Hope.

Something I have so much of for these young, sweet children who touched my heart in this orphanage. How I wish I could’ve found the words to explain what hope is to this boy who was so curious about my ring. How I wish I could’ve explained to him that hope is knowing there is greater things on the horizon. Hope is trusting in something much bigger than yourself. Hope is knowing that any pain, any loneliness, any sorrow you may be experiencing is only temporary. Hope is believing that where you came from, where you are, is not who you are going to be.

While I wish that these kids may never give up on hope, I can’t imagine that they could take me seriously if I were even able to string the meaning together. From an outsider, it might look like I have everything. Especially to this young boy who has been abandoned by his parents, the two people that should be there for him no matter what. Who am I to tell this boy to hold onto hope? Easy for me to say, I haven’t felt the pain he has experienced in only his short lifetime. My heart breaks for him, for all his brothers and sisters hurting in that orphanage. I wish they never had to go through what they already have. I wish I could change it for them, I wish I could make it different. But still I hold onto this hope. Hope for their future, hope that they will never stop believing in themselves, hope that they would know they are enough. Because they are much, much more than enough.

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