Finding Star Rewrites

Prologue:

The little girl stared, her parents, her brothers, all lay dead before her. 

Victims of suicide bombers?

She could not call them innocent victims, at nine she had seen too much, knew too much to know her family was not innocent.

The fact that they were dead did not hurt her, she felt relieved.

Allah would surely punish her for that feeling.

The Allah she did not believe in, but her Father worshipped.

She had heard about this man Jesus once, but she could not believe in him either.

A loving God would not allow bad things to happen to little children.

No there was no God, no Allah, no Jesus…

She was alone, but that was better than before…Better than the abuse.

She looked at the blood that surrounded her, the dead bodies and felt nothing.

She was numb.

Finally someone came and pulled her away, took her to the Orphanage just a few village away.

She did not grieve even then, no she could not grieve after the things they had done to her.

In their eyes, she had been nothing more than a punching bag, an object to rape.

Chapter One:

I had spent my entire life praying for a younger sister, and now she was standing before me.

A thirteen year old girl, with old eyes.

It had been two years since I had found out I was going to have the little sister I had been praying my entire life for.

A sister who had been born a half a world away from me, in a different culture, a sister who had seen far too much.

I knew she had come home to find her family dead, victims of a suicide bombing perhaps?  No one really knew, but she had come home to find them dead.

I knew little else about this stranger turned sister behind me.

Not even her name, she did not seem to have a name, at least not one she wanted to share.

It was like she wanted to erase who she was.

I wondered why a thirteen year old would want to do that?  Why would she want to break all connections with her past, even her name.

It seemed even the orphanage where we adopted her from did not know much about her, not even a name.

The little girl whose eyes looked like they had seen things I could not even imagine, was now the sister I had prayed a lifetime for.

The fact that we had been able to adopt her, had been a sheer miracle.  I knew God’s hand had to be in it.  How else could we a Christian family from America, adopt a Muslim child from Afghanistan?  They frowned on that kind of thing.

In the eyes of many Muslims we were infidels.  Funny we felt the same way about them.

I wondered what my sister had seen.  The things that made this little girl seem more like an old woman.

I instinctively knew that compared to this little girl my life had been easy.  I had parents who loved me, who would give life and limb to protect me.  I had been born in a place where I was free to worship as I choose, and until my new sister stood before me I did not appreciate how good I had.

For the longest time my biggest worry had been weather or not I would get the newest jeans in fashion or the newest gadget.

I knew though even as I was being selfish from time to time, I knew I had it good.  I had a family who loved me, and a faith in Jesus Christ.  I knew he had died on the cross for me. 

The little girl standing before me, the little girl who was now my sister did not have that knowledge.  All she knew was pain, it was written in her eyes.  I did not know what she had been through, but I knew it had to be something bad.

“Do you mind if we call you Star? “ I asked.  I had spent many nights looking at the Stars, while I prayed to the Lord for a sister, and now the prayer was being answered my sister stood before me.

“I do not care.” The girl said, unfeeling.  She did not seem to care about anything, she was building up a wall around herself.

Lord what has she been through?  I asked the Lord.  Not sure I was ready to hear it, and certain that it was not something Star wanted to talk about.  She said as little as possible, though she spoke and understood English.

I probably wouldn’t say much either, if I was thrust into a strange new world, if I had come home to find my family slaughtered, bombed.  I would probably build a wall around myself too.

I helped Star grab the few things she had brought from the orphanage with her, an old battered suitcase that looked like it was due for the trash, but she had nothing else.  I realized looking at the few things she had, how selfish I had been at times, and vowed to try and stop being that way.  I wanted to appreciate everything I had, not to become greedy.

Lord I have come to the realization that I am blessed, that I have had a good life.  I am sorry for when I become selfish and take the things you give me for granted.  I am blessed now and seeing Star I realize that.  This little girl has old eyes, and a sad soul.  I wonder what she has been through, but I am afraid to know too.  I am afraid of the things she might tell us.  I do not know if I am ready to hear this, and I am sure she is not ready to tell us.  I know that she is scared Lord, it shows in her eyes, and I want to help her but honestly Lord I don’t know how too.