Let me tell you a story.

This is not a happy story. Many stories I came to hear were not happy stories. But it is a true story. A real story. It is the story of a woman named Maya.

Maya was orphaned from a young age. Her father died when she was 7, and her mother when she was 9. Alone in this world at the age of 12 she knew something was not right with her. Her toes were swelling and she had blisters.  Never having left her village and having no one to care for her needs, Maya did not know what to call the ailments she was experiencing. She began losing sensation in her hands and feet. None of her relatives (She has 3 married brothers.) or village people cared enough to bring her anywhere for help, much less even tell her help existed in the world. But even still she was in a "good" set-up. Most people would recognize her ailments as leprosy and shun her, or alienate her from the community. But her "good" neighbors recognized that she could be useful, she could watch their children and keep their livestock while they were working or planting. So they took the necessary precautions to keep her alive, they would occasionally give her food or old rags for clothing. In tears she shared this with me. She shared the deep, abiding pain of knowing that she was only alive because she could be used. Hot tears began falling from my own eyes as she continued. 

Forty-seven years she lived like this. Never knowing she had leprosy, only that over time she could no longer straighten her fingers, or lift her foot to take a proper step. Finally the leprosy had so deteriorated her feet and bones that she could no longer walk. For nearly seven years she remained in her village crawling on her hands, ulcers forming on her knees and the tops of her feet. 

Marriage was never an option. Children were never an option. Love was never an option. Life consisted only of staying alive. But about 2 months ago a government campaign group came to her village. They like to visit the villages during election years to "gain new constituents" if you would. It's simple really, they give you citizenship, then you vote for them. Amazing how that works. Anyway, at this point they found Maya and worked for 3 weeks getting her citizenship. They told her about Anandaban Hospital, about hospitals in general. Until now she did not know that hospitals even existed. 

Two weeks after gaining citizenship Maya made her way to Anandaban Hospital. 4 hours walking and then an 8 hour bus ride. "Not very far, there are just no roads," she said. So close for all these years. Blind in her left eye, no hands, no feet, and crawling on weak calloused, ulcer infected knees, she came. Fifty-eight years old, she came. 

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

Hearing Maya's story was very hard for me. It doesn't have a "happy" ending. She made it to the hospital, this alone makes her one of the "lucky" ones. She is having shoes made, and may be able to walk. She now has knee pads*. She began treatment so the leprosy will  no longer be growing. Knowing this didn't make me feel any better. It didn't make the tears any less bitter.

 Leprosy doesn't have a "pretty" face. There isn't poster child for leprosy that you can broadcast to gain tons of support and start a social justice movement. Helping a "leper" may not seem quite as glamorous as rescuing a young teenage girl from the sex trade, or wearing "RED" to help with the fight against AIDS. There isn't a simple quick fix. It takes months of treatment, often times surgery, and training for a lifetime of self-care to even touch the surface of what these people need. Not many people want to sign-up for that. Not many people want to address the shame, fear, and humiliation these people have dealt with for a lifetime. Not many want to invest into someone who is often past their "prime" in life. It's not easy.

Guni Maya

Even just hearing Maya's story left me very heavy. I had to take this to Christ. He had to show me that yes, her life, her story is a weighty one. But it is that very fact that I needed to see. She is valuable to Him. She carries weight , she means something. And not just something, but everything to Him. He loves her. He longs for her to come to Him, to find rest in Him.

After sharing her story with me the only words I could find were, "Tell her she is beautiful. She is so beautiful to me." With tears in my eyes and the biggest smile I could offer I watched as these simple words were translated to her. Smiling she returned my gaze and shrank back in shyness. In earnest to make her know the truth of these words, I placed my hand on her knee and affirmed in my juvenile Nepali, "Deri ramro, deri ramro." ("Very beautiful, very beautiful.") She looked up and smiled.

 My prayer for Maya is this, that as she came to Anandaban, she also would come to Christ. That the refuge she found in the hospital would be just a glimpse of the refuge she may find in Christ. That she would find rest not just for her body but for her soul. That she would know the deep, abiding love of our Father.

*Imagine just for a moment what it takes to put on knee pads with no hands. There is no thumb to pinch the elastic to stretch it for a snug fit. It takes both "hands" to even get the elastic around her leg much less awkwardly "pull" it tight enough for it to even stay for 5 minutes. Imagine the effort to brush your hair. (Putting it in a ponytail by yourself is not even an option.) It's just easier not to get undressed than to dress every morning.