Today I stood for 10 minutes beside the hospital bed of a very sick little girl, Ruwand from Gaza. My coworker Lina and I were allowed admittance to the ICU at Wolfson Hospitals children wing, and in one of the rooms five beds, dwarfed under an assemblage of ten medical machines, tubes and digital screens and fluid sacks at work, lay the child. Her body, unconscious, eyes taped shut, shook gently from the activity of the machines.
The scene was a stark juxtaposition of beauty and struggle. Here a life, fragile, pure, innocent, lovely, yet hanging, preserved every minute by the work of machines and the love of God via people. I had no words to say by her bedside, only a long look to have, and a small, unspoken prayer for the preservation, recovered health, and testimony of this little girl Ruwand. I really do not have any words now, either. Only to ask that, if you are reading this, perhaps you would like to say a small prayer for her too.