A Purple Shamrock
It was on a difficult day that I found it. It was in the early days of our arrival and I had been frustrated with the not-knowing. Not knowing how to get somewhere easily, not understanding my current location, and the various streets you can take. The GPS arrow spinning as though it were on a pinwheel and not helping me at all. My husband Freedom had been away tying loose ends in the States and it was just the kids and me for about three weeks. I was feeling the weight of having to answer all the questions the kids had, with no one to consult. Well, without Freedom to consult and disagree with. We love disagreeing and the challenge of making our debatable points. Needless to say, I missed him.
I was weary and trying to get us home after a disappointing excursion because I kept getting confused trying to read the GPS. (Let me just say that using the GPS while walking is extremely slow, especially when you go in the wrong direction and you can’t tell because the arrow barely moves and doesn’t always point correctly.) It was bright and sunny in Ecuador. The equatorial position provides that direct sunbeam that burns you without you being aware but also excites and energizes you because you are never too hot. I must have been peering down at my phone trying to see the screen, whose light is no match for the daylight surrounding us. In my earnest attempts and in my frustration I looked down and my eyes lingered on a line, a crack in the sidewalk. There were several cracks and patches of grass trying to defy the density of concrete but something caught my eye. Were they clovers? There was something uncommon about them.
Suddenly, I forgot everything and became a child. “What are you doing here?” My kids looked down trying to understand why I was now crouching and talking to the sidewalk. I am very much in the habit of stopping to wonder and stare at something long enough to embarrass my family. “Look! This is a beautiful plant. It’s not supposed to be here. It will get trampled.”
It was a Purple Shamrock.
The tiny triangles were just starting to form, their stems so thin and fragile. I’ve only seen them in a pot so I wondered how they got themselves in this high-traffic, unsuitable place. “We have to save it, it doesn’t belong here.” I took out whatever I could find from my bag - a napkin and a small plastic bag. Kayla helped me pluck the purple clovers out and we found our way home to plant it. Not all its stems survived but some did and still others began emerging looking delicate for only a day or so before becoming strong unfurling their deep-colored, triangular leaves.
When I look at the plant now, it reminds me of that frustrating moment that turned out to be life-giving. I can’t help but wonder about some of the stories we’ve heard in our weekly Education = Hope meetings. Stories of kids who simply can’t learn at home because they have one phone for remote classes and they have to share it with several siblings. I’ve heard stories of kids who can’t go to school because, although school is free, uniforms, books, food, and transportation are not. I think of the hardness of life and the lack of resources that puts people in even harder situations that they can’t get out of. Looking at the now thriving plant reminds me to stop and notice a person or a detail. I remember that our small, nourishing acts can help someone else in a big way.
We’ve met people here, missionaries, that embody this act of plucking out and literally changing someone’s destiny. They pluck out the difficulty of not being able to afford to go to school, they pluck out the barrier of not having enough technology to support learning. They opened tutoring sessions where kids can come to use computers and have wifi. They have even plucked boys and girls or men and women off the streets and off of enslaving acts so that they can have hope and training for their future. They have left their home, or even their careers to follow this missional calling. They have, even through personal frustrations, stopped long enough to see the cracks that are choking, binding, and blinding. Over time and through ups and downs the people they serve have begun to unfurl their hopes and believe that God is real and that they matter to Him. What’s even more exciting is how each missionary or family of missionaries represents a great cloud of witnesses supporting them back in their hometowns. This is the body of Christ literally reaching out from one nation to another just how the Father designed it.
The great news is that God is faithful to put small wildflowers or lilies in your path. I hope you find time to quiet yourself, even in frustrating moments, to listen and to see. Remember that it is sometimes a small nourishing act that can help someone in need. Even someone who seems fine might need help plucking out the lies swirling in their head.
Thank you for helping us serve in this way,
Nancy Rodriguez
