My last work day in Mendenhall, Mississippi, was a fulfilling one. Not only did our team complete some projects, but I got a chance to know Angel.

Our day’s plan was to split into three teams: one continuing work on The Nursery, one finishing up projects at the school, and a third traveling to the home of a local resident, Ms. Mary, to do some painting and repairs. Before getting started, though, we attended chapel with the K-12 students.

Chapel included pledges of allegiance (the flag was one of three), some songs, a short presentation from the first grade class, and recognition of students for good behavior during the week. When it came time for the high school recognition, the two high school teachers (one Math, one Language) wanted to recognize the entire high school class – about 20 students, freshmen through fifth-year seniors. One boy piped up that a trip to MacDonalds seemed like a reasonable reward; this brought a round of applause and laughter from the entire school body but was quickly dismissed by the principal.

Our group seized the opportunity: after chapel, we offered to take all the high school students to lunch at MacDonalds. This would be a unique and uncommon treat for them - none had cars and the nearest MacDonalds (or any fast food) is about a 20 minutes’ drive away. 

After a morning of hard work on our various projects, we gathered all the kids to head out for lunch. And while I could write several stories about the trip – from our car conversations to the constant thanks bestowed upon us – I’ll share just one, about a freshman named Angel.

Angel is a beautiful and quiet girl. She rarely talks and even more rarely meets anyone’s gaze. The other high school girls generally ignore her; not that they are cruel, just that they have a tight social group and Angel just isn’t a part of it. The girls do watch out for Angel and are courteous to her, but she is clearly not a part of their social circle.

Sami and I ate lunch with Angel. We found that she would answer direct questions, so shyly that we often had to ask her to repeat her answer. But, it took quite a while before she answered with more than one word or asked any questions of her own.

During our conversation, we got to know Angel as a sweet, unique girl - who is likely autistic (and evidently not diagnosed). She engages with the world around her more as an observer than a participant. Her conversation topics are like those of a young child… favorite colors and cartoons. Her past includes some tumultuous experiences at her previous school – prompting her recent transfer to this new one.

Since our lunch, I can’t stop thinking about Angel… How she will fare at this new school. If she is safe. Whether she ever has, or ever will, receive the educational support she needs. And, what would happen if someone could connect with her enough to make a real difference in her life.

Now I find that my eyes are very open to the Angels I see around me. Those fragile ones whose chins tilt toward the floor, who hold their shoulders in, as though to protect themselves, and who may well be victims – of one kind or another – throughout their lives.

I’m not sure how or whether I can reverse the trend in their futures. But I can say hello. I can smile. I can hold them in my prayers. And I can notice that they are there.

Because I’m sure those things make a difference.