Scars are viewed as ugly reminders of an event that is best left unspoken. They come with a trail of memories, painful and negative. Society says cover them up, do whatever needs to be done to hide them. We feel ugly and ashamed if our scars show.

This is Benjamine. She has massive scars covering the upper part of her body. Her house caught fire when she was young, and she was left with contractures that made it impossible for her to close her mouth or tilt her head backwards. Her armpits and elbows were also contracted, making bending or writing impossible. In her short fourteen years of life, she has endured more than most of us ever will.

Benjamine arrived a week after I did, at the beginning of January. In one day, she had a massive surgery with burn contracture releases on both arms, axillas and neck areas. She had several graft and donor sites, meaning she was bandaged at the neck, both arms and both legs. She had an IV in both feet. And she had splints on both arms, not allowing her arms to bend, meaning her arms stuck straight out for a good couple weeks. She was on a morphine and a ketamine drip, requiring a lot of pain medicine to keep her comfortable. This type of surgery back home would be done in stages, but because of time constraints, it had to be done all at once for it to heal by the time Mercy Ships leaves this country.

Over the span of two and a half months, this girl endured raw pain, uncontrollable at times. She endured so many dressing changes and daily physiotherapy to regain function of her extremities. She endured several setbacks with infections and some of her skin grafts not taking, meaning she had to go back for surgeries. She endured wearing splints that kept her arms up all the time, slings and braces. She endured the lovely nutrition drinks that she received twice a day that tasted like sweet syrupy grossness. She endured days of weariness and despair, thinking she would never be well. She persevered through endless days that she was forced to be vulnerable and in pain.

I remember one night when she was found to have lice. She was lying in bed, staring up at us with wide frightened eyes as we prepared to wash her hair. She screamed and cried as we moved her head and started to wash. Not only was the movement painful, she was scared. She kept saying something over and over, and it was translated to us that she thought we were going to shave her head. And that she wanted to die. Tears escaped from the corners of my eyes as I held her head and softly rubbed in the shampoo, praying softly under my breath for this insanely courageous girl. Eventually she fell asleep as we finished washing her beautiful black hair. As I gazed into her face that night, her tangible bravery in the face of so many challenges touched my heart.

Each day I came in to work, she would smile sweetly at me from her corner bed. It was a miracle to watch her go from being bedridden and wracked with pain to a spunky, cheeky girl who likes to refuse her medications, sleep until noon, watch movies and do crafts with us.

Benjamine left us two days ago. She was discharged to the Hope Center, but she still comes in for dressing changes and physiotherapy appointments, but is no longer a part of our ward.

For Benjamine, her scars will always show.

 SCARS

On the girl’s brown legs there were many small white scars.

I was thinking, ‘Do those scars cover the whole of you,

Like the stars and moon on your dress?’

I thought that would be pretty too,

And I ask you right here to please to agree with me

That a scar is never ugly.

That is what the scar makers want us to think.

But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them.

We must all see scars as beauty.

This will be our secret.

Because a scar does not form on the dying.

A scar means ‘I survived.’

-          Chris Cleave, Little Bee

Her deepest scars did not come from burns – but from discouragement, despair and hopelessness. I am so thankful that Jesus’ healing is not just skin deep. Benjamine left here knowing she is loved – by the King of Kings and by His people. She is blossoming into a confident young lady who knows that her scars are not ugly. They mean she survived.