What can I give?



"I want a star too!" tell me two eyes who are a little angry and frustrated because they haven't made an origami star yet. I smile, this spontaneity of the moment is a gift that the children I look after at Casa Sonja, the music school in Hosman, give me every day. Every day I notice how much the pure sincerity that lies in these encounters changes me and makes me move on and on and on. I also recognize every day everything I get in terms of love, gratitude and wealth in my relationships with others: a hug, a look, a cry of joy when I arrive and the children jumping into my arms. A secret drawing accompanied by very precise instructions to keep it safe from the envy of others. I am disarmed by this smiling beauty. Given this reality, the question remains: what can I give? When I came to ELIJAH it was my mission to help some children who were learning saxophone and clarinet in the music school in Nou. I was very scared of not knowing what to do. Every time I'm scared, I remember the words someone said to me back then: "Don't be scared." Because sincerity in interacting with someone already paves the way. Because tenderness in interaction is never a mistake.

It was this little boy who tried to play the soprano saxophone for the first time. I asked him to play a "la" but he couldn't. The first notes are very difficult to play, he was discouraged and started to cry. I looked at him tenderly, trying to convey all the gentleness I had. I took him in my arms. But felt extremely helpless because I had no means of communication. - I thought, but I was wrong.

I realized it when I decided for the first time to play a few bars on the piano in the small chapel during communion. The silence that followed was marked by a religious peace. I didn't know how to pray, I didn't know how to preach, I couldn't reconcile anyone's soul with my words, I still didn't know how to speak Romanian language - but that day I had the feeling that through music I could convey inner peace and share my attention. I thought I had no means of communication, but I was wrong.

In reality, the language barrier made it possible for me to understand that the most important thing lies not in words. Although I was frustrated beforehand because I only had my smile and my fingers on the keyboard , I now realize how lucky I am that I can share myself with others, that I can open my soul. This is the language of my heart. What can I give? Love, attention, pride for these children when they manage to do what they set out to do.

When I hear little Sidonia calling out in the social center: "Louise has come!", I feel like the most privileged person in the world because I am loved in this way. We all need love. Love between us is essential, that makes us grow, that makes us feel that we exist. It is a means of being noticed and recognized. How can i give love? To be present, to be yourself, completely and with all your heart.

Louise Garrigou, 24, volunteer at Elijah