Five Minute Friday: Red

I know I've written about her before, even on my blog. But her eyes stand out and always will. I can only be in awe of the depth of the look she gave me those years ago, after the “great” flood of Onesti, when my church family went to give a puppet Bible lesson to all the children in her village. She stunned me with her look and behind her was a boy, barely older than her looking off into the distance at just the right moment, when my finger touched the button that set in motion their capture on my camera.

That red sweater. How old was it? Where did it come from? Was it in the dumpster behind one of the many bloc apartment buildings when mom or dad went scavenging for anything of value to keep their family fed? I didn't look that closely, but I imagine it was frayed and filthy, nothing like the beauty of her face … of her innocence.

It was that look in her eyes that captivated me before, and it will always be the look in her eyes that keeps my attention in the years to come. She was beautiful. This little girl. A gypsy. An innocent.

Miora (Conti, Romania)
July 2005