“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls” writes Khalil Gibran in his book titled The Broken Wings. I admire the truth in his words every time I meet the children at the Children’s Home where I intern through MyChild Trust NGO. There are girls from various backgrounds, each with a distinct story of hardships and reasons why they needed the care and protection of the government. One common thing unites most of them - being misled. Either by those around them or by their own emotions. The amount of grief and trauma they have experienced is beyond terrifying and takes serious effort to comprehend. However, they wade through these murky waters of life with faulty coping mechanisms like self-harm, substance abuse and similar others. Such disastrous methods and yet their beating hearts are both evidence that though their fragile young minds have been unhealthily tampered with, their spirit is resilient and holds a tiny fistful of hope.

On my first day at the Girls' Home, I saw some scared faces, but many who readily welcomed us. They were eager to know how we would engage them and impact their lives. It has been two weeks now, and they still greet us with the same warmth and enthusiasm shining in their eyes. I remember meeting this very quiet and reserved child on my first day. She watched from afar with longing in her eyes, the fun activities that we conducted with the other girls. I saw that no one had asked her to join us and she went unnoticed very conveniently. I spoke with her softly and insisted that she join us, still a little apprehensive with my approach for this was our first communication. She raised her head at my persistently annoying voice and I saw an angel's sad eyes staring back at me. She looked troubled deep within but unable to voice her woes. I knew addressing them was not possible at that instant so I asked her to simply sit with the others while I sat next to her. I kept asking her questions about herself and her surroundings but she responded only with a shy smile. It is later that I realized the existence of a language barrier between us. However, her acknowledgment with a smile seemed enough progress for day one. Over the days, I understood that she blossoms when engaged with alone in an activity rather than in a group. I discovered that she likes to dance but is shy of the people around. She dresses up every day and pins her hair neatly. I used all of this information to start our conversations or calm her when she was agitated. Reading her case file helped me gain more insight into why she needs to be handled more gently than others and so I applied the social case work principle of Individualisation.

In past two weeks, I have seen her open up a lot, not only with me but with everyone around her. Now, she participates in group dances even though she does not know what song it is. She throws a fit at every minor inconvenience. She can never remember the names of colours no matter how many times she learns them. She speaks in a voice that is loud and clear. It is a sign of her indomitable spirit. Yes, she freezes in anger when things don't go her way and looks like she has wings of fire instead of soft feathers. But she melts when whispered to and made to see reason. Then, the feathers are seen again. It is individual attention that helps her.

I shared a moment with her that I hope I never forget. It was one sunny afternoon when we took all the girls to the park so they get their hearts racing, not with fear but excitement. She was on a swing and called for me from far. Unfortunately, I couldn't hear her amidst all the commotion of children laughing and frolicking around. My teammates brought it to my attention that she was calling me. When I went to her, she asked me join her on the other swing. I accepted the invitation. She then asked if she could sing a song for me. I again accepted the invitation to be sung for with a heart full of joy. Who sings for you apart from your own mother? She closed her eyes and started singing a Bengali song as her swing picked up the pace, going higher like her spirits. It is in this moment that I was struck with joy, sadness and amazement altogether. Here was this little girl who was miles away from her mother, in a strange land among strange people who don't even speak her language, having gone through some of the most frightening of traumatic experiences. She was swinging high, singing a song about how a mother wakes up her child early in the morning to pray while the child asks the mother to let the dreams in his eyes stay for just a little while longer. It is in this moment that I realized how strong her spirit is. Even after enduring everything that she has, it still finds the ability to indulge in something as serene as this. For some reason, I expected her to cry after she ended the song. I prepared myself with all the right things I am trained to say when tears starts flowing or sadness shows on her face. But that did not happen. She simply asked me if she can recite the nursery rhyme she knew, all the while her swing maintaining the pace. Again, I agreed. How could I not?

In our number of interactions, there is more that I have learnt than I have taught her. It seems like an unfair trade but it is well known that children are the best teachers. I have learnt the value of patience, faith and family. I have come to realise the immense power of hope and lastly that of the human soul and spirit. I am grateful that I was offered this opportunity to work with MyChild at the Girls’ Home where angels with irrepressible spirits temporarily reside before they are placed in safe hands by the Child Welfare Committee.