Sunday - June 14 - 2009
Sponsor: Carol Facilitator: Lina
As a wind-down before taking the kids back to the camp, our last activity at the end of the day was gathering around together to watch the Arabic version of Cinderella. And as we assembled, he climbed right up beside me to join me on the couch. Taking my hand, he started playing with my fingers, and then quietly began whispering. Knowing I didn’t understand much Arabic, it seemed as though he never really ever anticipated a response from me actually. And as I looked over at him, I soon realized it was only my hand he was interested in conversing with. Content enough to quietly discuss the trivial matter with my knuckles, he continued to inspect my fingers, and his gentle debate with them carried on softly while the movie played.
He quietly counted my fingers, tugged them, bent them, all the while speaking to them as if each of my digits had something special to whisper back to him. And to add to his intrigue, I wriggled my fingers every once in a while as to give the impression that they were indeed whispering something special back to him.
… And for some reason the movie ended much too soon.
