Big bright brown eyes stared up at me, peering through long dark eyelashes. Small, tan arms found their way around my legs, encircling me in a world of warmth. A smile was etched from ear to ear with an unfaltering gaze. And, as I looked down, I soon found my expression to mimic that of the little boy’s, whose arms embraced me, so tight.
         “Kaylee?” the child murmured my name in a slight Indian accent.
         A hum escaped my lips as a signal for him to continue.
         “I have something to tell you, but you aren’t going to like it.” Surprisingly, the grin remained plastered to his face, despite the dreadful words that sent my nerves on edge. Panicked thoughts began to swirl my mind, and anxious butterflies arose in my stomach as I anticipated the boy’s remark.
         I squat down to where I could see the boy eye to eye. “What is it, Sankalp?” A gentle smile was graced upon my face as the words slipped from my mouth, encouraging the boy to voice out his words.
         Little did I know that the next six words spoken would break my heart in ways that I could have never foreseen. Sankalp cupped his tiny hands and whispered in my ear, “I wish you were my mom.”
        

A week earlier I would have never reckoned that God would have used me in ways to connect with types of people whom I’ve never related with before. Sankalp and his family were of Indian descent. There was no doubt that they resided in the Hindu religion and practiced it wholeheartedly. Their belief couldn’t have been more divergent from my own, as the very essence of my presence in their city, in their neighborhood, in their lives, was to spread the word and love of Jesus with my fellow youth group. They worshiped many gods, while I devoted my life to one, true God. They follow the teachings out of the Vedas, while my only life guide is the Bible. They believe in Karma and the act of earning your way into God’s eternal paradise, while I believe that the only way to Heaven is through Christ Jesus. Yet, regardless of the disparities between our beliefs, Sankalp, his family, and I connected in ways that didn’t go unnoticed to the eye.

Sometimes, still to this day, I look back and question how was I able to create such a bond with Sankalp. I remember the epiphany that came upon me that final day as I looked into the eyes of that small 5-year-old boy People of all nations come from totally different backgrounds, beliefs, cultures, races, and religions. However these things minute to the ultimate thing we have in common; we’re all human. We all struggle. We all have our worries. We all long for companionship and crave love. We all wake up each day, wandering, searching, and sometimes even finding our ultimate purpose in this life. These are the things that make us human, and these are the things that allow us to connect with one another.