Jalehl's Eyes

This isn't what I really wanted to post, but I thought it would be fun to put up anyway. It is a Journal I wrote this week for my Comp & Rhet class. Enjoy!


What I remember most clearly about my mission trip to Jamaica last summer were Jalehl’s eyes. They were big, coffee black, and watched me for the longest time at our first clinic. They were filled with hope, anticipation, sorrow and wonder, to name a few. I never knew so much emotion could be packed into a five-year-old’s eyes.

My trip to Jamaica with my dad as part of a medical mission with a group based in Ohio started on July 2nd, 2011 with a direct flight from Minneapolis to Montego Bay. We stayed at a hotel run by missionaries whose main purpose was to house groups coming in from the states. Though set up more like a motel, with many separate buildings in the compound, the space was comfortable, with air conditioned rooms at night, had great, home cooked Jamaican food, and a wonderful view. The first night, our team spend the majority of the evening sorting pills into baggies for the pharmacy would set up as part of the clinic on Monday.

The next day was Sunday, and we went to a church service hosted right inside the hotel compound. In the afternoon, we went to the infirmary, a ‘home’ for the mentally ill adults and elderly. We gave the residents juice, papaya, mango, and water. They absolutely loved the attention. I thought I would go home and most remember the joy on their faces forever.
But the next day, I met Jalehl. We were at our first clinic of the week, with hundreds of people waiting for hours before we got to the site. Most of the members of our group were medical students, with a few doctors, a dentist and his assistant, a chiropractor, one other woman and me to round it all out. It was a neat little operation we set up, with the pharmacy, triage, chiropractor’s area, dentist, and ‘exam stations’. That morning, as well as the next, I worked with the dentist, sterilizing tools. We hadn’t been there very long when I noticed a little boy hanging out around the steps right next to our ‘office’. I smiled at him, and asked his name, but he mumbled so softly that I couldn’t tell what he said. I thought nothing of it for a while, and kept doing my duty. He left for a little bit, and then came back. He just stood there and watched me.

After a while I noticed that he was watching me very particularly when I handed out the toothbrushes to the patients. We had a big black garbage sack of individually wrapped children’s toothbrushes. I asked him if he would like one, and he nodded, so I let him choose the color he liked best (out of blue, red, purple, and green). He took the toothbrush with such awe on his face, and after taking it out of it’s wrapping, and gently touching the bristles, he ran off with a smile. IT wasn’t long before he was back with about seven friends, all wanting a toothbrush. They were so excited to get one. Jalehl hung around even after that, watching everything with his big eyes, and only at the end of the day when his mother called for him to go did I find out his name.

I looked back on this experience later, realizing that it was the Fourth of July. Normally I would have been at my friend’s farm all day, participating in a church wide annual potluck. But this year, I gave a little boy his first toothbrush. Something that seems so trivial and boring to me made a world of difference to him.

Every time I think of trip to Jamaica, I think of Jalehl’s eyes. Sure, I remember the kid that wanted to take pictures on my camera, and the boy we taught to fist bump. I loved swimming in the clear, blue ocean, and shopping at the straw market. The tour we took of a ‘farm’ was spectacular too, especially the way we were served fresh sugarcane and coconuts that had just been cut with a machete (they use those for everything there!). I loved spending time with the people in our group, playing in the pool with them and making lunch together. I loved picking out paintings for my sister and mom, and drinking the best coffee in the world every morning with my toast and guava jelly. But the first thing that comes to mind when I think of Jamaica is a pair of huge, chocolate eyes on a little chocolate boy, and the joy that filled them when he was handed a toothbrush.

I want to remember to live that way. To take joy in the simple things. I want to reach out and realize that my life is wonderful, and I should be thankful for even small things like toothbrushes and coffee and swimming pools. I want to understand what makes others hurt, and how I can help them. I want to learn to see the truth in other people’s eyes, and how to look for the sparkle. Most of all, I want to remember how a little gift can mean so much, even if you would find it insignificant. And I will always remember who taught me this; a little Jamaican boy with clear, brown eyes.