treasures in plastic bags

This morning I sat with Vilma, a 53-year old woman with Down syndrome. She had been sitting alone, and welcomed my presence with a smile and a tiny giggle as she pat the concrete ledge beside her, saving a spot for me. She is non-verbal, but does not lack any means of expression. She pointed to a plastic bag sitting by her feet, cuing me to look inside. As I started to peek inside, her smile doubled in size, as she was clearly excited to show me the contents in the bag. What I found is not what I expected. Inside another plastic bag, wrapped in even more plastic was a bar of soap. I smelled it, and she rubbed her hands together as if she were washing her hands, and then clapped and laughed because she was so proud of her bar of soap. She then wanted me to keep looking, to which I found more miscellaneous, mostly dysfunctional objects. But they were her treasures.  I expressed my deep, intense interest in her bar of soap and other treasures, for this woman portrayed a strong sense of confidence that she needed to hold onto.

This was not the first plastic bag of knick knacks I’ve seen around the orphanage. Another girl, Margoth, carries a bag almost identical to Vilma’s. Both are plastic, ripping on the sides, and full of unrelated objects—ripped up newspapers, broken and worn out make-up bags, and empty water bottles. Margoth carries her bag around as if it is her child, never letting it out of her sight or hands. Many afternoons, I find Margoth sitting in a chair outside her dormitory, taking objects in and out of her bag with no apparent motive. At first thought, I wondered what it was about these bags that was so special. They seemed so insignificant. Then it clicked. The contents in those bags are really the only things they can claim as theirs in life. They share clothes with others. They share rooms with 4-5 other girls. They share shoes, bedding, most everything. Nothing they have here is truly “theirs”, so when they receive something that is, they cherish that item. And therefore, it is significant. It is significant and meaningful to them and there needs to be no other reason than those as to why those bags are so precious.

The Lord gave me a beautiful analogy (those who know me know I’m a sucker for analogies, and I love when the Lord gives me a new one to dwell on). We are nothing but the plastic bags. Often times we are broken, falling apart, and worn out (sometimes even dysfunctional :)). But the Lord holds us like a child. He never loses sight of us. He treasures us. He wants to show others the beauty He sees in us, and He never grows tired of displaying His prized creation. We belong to Him, just as these plastic bags belong to these women.