At Christmas, deep in the heart of each of us is a “broken alleluia”. So often, almost always, in the slums of Klong Toey and here at Mercy Centre. The whispers, tears, the silent gestures of the children say so much about sadness and being dumped, left alone in an abandoned building or a bus stop. That’s the broken part, and the alleluia is the joy of Christmas, of being loved. Being found.
Why didn’t you love me from the start? What could I have possibly done wrong as a small innocent child? Or maybe you loved me too much that to save me, you had to “dump me off” — left me alone, on a street corner or a bus stop. But Christmas puts a stop to all of that. Christmas tells us that we are all loved.
Even one of our beloved kids, literally born next to a three-wheel noodle cart, on the side of the road here in the slum. Pregnant mum was “on her way to…
