I sat near a two-year-old who had, by all appearances, just melted. His mother was nearby, obviously chatting in his direction. Visually, he heard nothing. His face of lament told a story of sadness, resignation, and a loss of hope. This was just the beginning. His features were fixed, devoid of expression. His young eyes were focused on something only he knew. He was anywhere but where he was.
I wanted to say something, but what would I say? My Tamil vocab is non-existent. I was an-unknown grey-haired stranger. I had no insights other than my simple observation. In the end the best I could offer was a look of compassion and willingness to be part of the moment. Briefly, I thought we had made eye contact. In his lifeless response, I accepted that reality of the situation with an understanding sadness born in flood of personal memories of lament which were overwhelming my senses.
I do not think I could say anything particularly profound. My simple words would have been the following.
I am sorry for whatever has brought you to this moment. It is not something you were created for. If I could take it away from you, as a gift from an old one to a young boy at the beginning of a long journey. There will be plenty of time for paid and angst in the future.
As hard as it is, know others have faced the lament and darkness in your mind. For now, sadly, this comes with life and living. There will again be a time when you will laugh and play, even though it seems impossible right now. Letting go of your emotion is a step towards being able to smile. Feel free to join the old lament, asking through tears, “Oh, how could we ever sing God’s song in this wasteland?” (Psalm 137.4)
For now, be patient and wait for the light. It will come slowly, but it will come! Then, in a moment you did not see coming, you will feel a smile reborn in your soul.
