Innocence

I met her at a government hospital in southern Africa. She was 8 years old and had a smile that exhibited her immense and beautiful strength. Her eyes were a deep, beautiful brown.

It was a Monday morning. The room was poorly lit and the lights flickered. The floor was dirty and the room smelled like blood and old urine. She layed still in the bed. As I walked closer, I asked her "What's your name?" She held my hand and whispered, "My name is Innocence."

While her english was broken, we still were able to communicate. She told me that she had AIDS and that people thought she was going to die. I held her hand and my heart broke into a thousand pieces. She was 8 years old. I was barely 18 and her life shouldn't have been ending just when it felt like mine was beginning.

While I didn't have the words to comfort, I did what I could. I held her, because a child deserves to be loved. I ran my fingers through her hair and I rocked her. Singing to her, I told her she was loved.

I went back to see her several times. Each time she was worse. Her body was weak and near the end she was covered in beads of sweat and didn't even have the strength to talk. But she would smile everytime I came. Her family had left her at the hospital when they found out she was sick. They hadn't been to see her in months.

She was only one of the kids who were sick or dying of HIV/AIDS. Innocence died a few weeks later and her life was but a blip in the many million moments of history. But she changed my life. She changed how I love and how I see the world. She opened my eyes to what was the reality for so many kids. And I'll never forget her.

Her name was Innocence & she died from AIDS. She is not forgotten & that's why I will share her story.

Every child deserves to know love from the beginning to the end and everything in-between.

Today, love deeply. You never know when it will be someone's last day. It's not always the big acts of kindness, it's usually the million little moments that make the largest impact.