People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a
lifetime.
I met Kezia several times in my life.
I can recall clearly my first encounter with her.
I was serving in a brand-new building. We didn’t even have
any desk in the teacher’s office! There was no running water. The workers had
not finished with the project. You could hear hardware tools everywhere. The
faculty toilet was still locked, and nobody knew who had the key. There was no
water nor power supply. We brought our drinking water, lest we thirst the whole
day. It was certainly no fun way to meet someone new in anyone’s life!
There she was, sitting on a folding chair in the hallway.
A girl with pigtails, chubby cheeks and the biggest smile I’d
ever seen. She was looking for a school. She’d been turned down by many before.
Because she had spina bifida and hydrocephalus.
I teased her. “School is hard, you know? I give lots of homework
and quizzes.” She told me in business matter: “I want to go to school. I
promise I will go to school.”
She kept her promise.
Kezia became one of best students. She gave it all. Even when
it took all she’d got to even physically attend school. Her schoolmates
absolutely loved her. They played hide-and-seek at recess. They took turn to
deliver her lunch upstairs from the school cafeteria, because the school
building didn’t have an elevator. They fought for the seats next to hers at
school assemblies or circle times. She was the living exhibit of a successful
inclusion.
Days turned into years.
She left that school. Due to her deteriorating health, she
had to have numerous surgeries. She had to do so in the middle of her family’s
financial crisis. Her family could not afford the tuition fees. We didn’t give
up, though. We sneaked out and delivered worksheets for her. Years later, she
told me she brought those worksheets to work on in the hospital. Those worksheets
became her lifeline – the only reminder of “normal” life. They provided her
with sanity she needed to keep on living. Years after, I left that school as
well. I felt I had a higher calling to answer.
I was in my comfort zone.
I taught in a school established by my church. All the PK’s
attended my classes. I knew everyone, and everyone knew me. I live 10 minutes’
worth of driving from that school. I never finished 1 song on the CD from my
front gate to the school’s parking lot. I got paid so well that I went on
vacations at least twice a year. Yet there was a nudge inside me. That was not
where I belong. That was not where I was needed most.
It wasn’t easy to say good-bye.
I cried many tears when I left. The students’ parents
visited me to prove that I wasn’t teaching somewhere else. They still called me
to make sure their children serve in the school Christmas Service. We still
keep in touch today. That’s how much we cherish each other. I guess they can
tell that I love my kiddos to death. Although there are days when I wondered
whether I should’ve worked in a bank….
I visited her and we had noodles party for lunch.
I thought I was the generous one. I was so ashamed, though,
when I learned that in the hospital, she visited the other children in her
area. She gave hope and offered prayers to children who were terminally ill.
She gave words of encouragement despite her own physical pain. She sang songs
for children who cried in spite of her family’s no knowing how to cover the
hospital bills.
We had to tell her tales.
Kezia’s mom decided to write her journey. To raise funds,
and to raise hope for others. I helped her searching for any publisher who
would read her drafts. With cold shoulders, they told us they would do it for a
minimum amount of printings. We kept on searching, until we found Fanny Lesmana
-- a lady who’d become a dear friend and a fellow lecturer at Petra Christian
University.
I found her again.
This time, thanks to Instagram. Just like girls her age,
she had an IG account. That’s how I tracked her down. I booked her to share her
story in my class.
I am in a different stage of life now.
I teach student-teachers at a Christian University. I
fervently instill the love for students with special needs to my students. After
4 years, they will become teachers. If could share the flame to 20
student-teachers each year, I believe I pass the torch to them. Let them reach
different parts of the country, and even the world, and ignite this light. I
believe that one day, in Indonesia, there will be no student who slips off the
crack of their teachers’ fingers.
Today, Kezia did that exact same job.
She shared her life to my students. Thanks to the Pandemic,
classes are taught online, and I could “invite” her, and others to our class.
For the first time since we all had to stay home (6 months ago!!), we sang a
song together again. This time, tearfully. Once again, she became the living
exhibit that nothing could stop the flame inside. Nothing should be an excuse
good enough not to encourage or whip you off. Under no circumstances should you
have a pity party. Later on, on our class’ Learning Management System Wall, each
student told me how much Kezia has taught them within minutes. Obviously, like
me, they had met such a strong lady who loves Jesus so much that she just
cannot help but sharing Him to anyone who would listen.
Today, my students made a new friend. I pray that, just
like me, they will meet Kezia – and other Kezias – several times in their
lives. Kezias whom God put in their lifetimes to become reminders of His love
to children with special needs. And when we meet again in our Heavenly Father’s
home one day, what a joy it would be!
Surabaya, 23 September 2020
