What lies beneath the surface

There's one story in particular that has really touched my heart in the last few weeks...it's about a little girl who came to the ship all the way from Cameroon...this is Aissa's story:

Aissa was abandoned by both of her parents as a child. She grew up with her grandmother and at the age of 6, developed a disease called NOMA. Her disease resulted in degeneration of the tissue in her face. She was very malnourished and there was a huge portion of flesh missing in the side of her right cheek. At the tender age of six, Aissa had lost not only her parents, but she had also lost the gift of being seen as 'normal.' Because of the circumstances she found herself in, she became an outcast in her society.

But, Aissa's story doesn't end that way. Aissa found help at a local hospital in Cameroon and improved significantly after receiving treatment. But even with the best treatment they could give her at the hospital, she still needed surgery to remove a portion of her cheek and replace it with a skin flap. So, a non-profit organization called Willing and Able funded Aissa's plane ticket to Togo so that she would be able to get her surgery.

A few weeks ago, I had my first encounter with Aissa. I didn't know anything about Aissa's story. The first thing I was told about Aissa was that she had lots of behavioral problems and frequent tantrums. As I listened to the nurse's report during handover, I prepared myself for the worst and prayed for patience, expecting to have a really challenging day with this little girl.

But when I went over to Aissa's bedside to meet her, I didn't see the stubborn, rebellious child I had expected. Instead, there, beneath the bandages and guarded expressions, I saw a fragile little spirit. It was apparent that she had become hardened by the ridicule she had received for her condition, but the little sweetheart inside was still shining through. I know it was only the grace of God that I could see the true Aissa that first day.

The day passed with its share of challenges. Aissa was very hesitant to have any medicine placed in her feeding tube due to the nausea she had been feeling for the past few days. I slowly pushed each medicine through, waiting for Aissa's nod of approval. The entire process took nearly half an hour. But, I knew that somehow I had connected with Aissa and won over some of her trust. I tried to show her in every way possible that I loved her. And, somehow, that message seemed to get across to her.

A few hours into the shift, Aissa's uncle helped her with her bath and accidentally got her dressing wet. The dressing was covering her skin graft on her thigh, which had just been operated on a few days before. I started to take off the layers of gauze and waited for Alanie, our wound care nurse to come to assess the wound. Alanie walked in the room and watched as I finished removing the gauze. She looked at me, then looked at Aissa. 'Wow, Becca! She really trusts you!' she said. And then it hit me, 'She really does trust me.' It hadn't even dawned on me up until that point that this behavior was out of the ordinary for a little girl who refused her medicine and threw frequent tantrums. She really should've been squirming and fighting. That would be expected behavior for a six year old 'uncompliant' child who was having a bandage changed. But, she didn't fight. She barely even moved. Instead, she sat perfectly still as I worked away and obediently kept her hands off the wound. As I realized the breakthrough I'd just experienced, I silently thanked God for his favor and finished up the dressing change.

Looking back on that situation, I see an ironic representation of something that was happening below the surface. No one could see Aissa's wound until all the layers of gauze were taken off. It was obvious that there was a source of pain, but it was all covered up. At the same time, she had deeper wounds that were not just physical. There were emotional wounds from the ridicule, abandonment, and neglect she had experienced. But, as the layers of her anger and bitterness were peeled away through the love she received from the staff, the hurting little heart beneath it all could finally be seen.

Aissa looking in the mirror to see her new face

In the last few weeks that Aissa has been on the ward, she has completely transformed into a different little girl. She is playful, social, and has become our favorite little helper. She even occasionally picks up the babies on the ward (there are lots of siblings of patients on the ward) and plays 'mama,' hugging them and giving them kisses. I love seeing Aissa's nurturing little spirit. She loves to climb on me like a little monkey and gives lots of hugs. Some days, Aissa's fireball spirit and endless energy wears me out, but I can't help but smile and love her for every minute of it. Every time she comes up and wraps her little arms around me, my heart is filled with gratitude to God for the miracle He's done in our little Aissa. She's had a long journey, not just from Cameroon. She came from a place in her life that was dark and gloomy to a place where she can experience and give love...it's children like her that remind me that this ministry is not just about physical healing...it's about a deeper healing and tranformation that only God can do. It has been amazing to be a part of Aissa's journey. I know that she will go home changed. She will have a new face, but more importantly, she'll have a new heart.

'Mamma Aissa'

Our little helper

Kisses from Aissa

Aissa's new face is healing up nicely