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About ten years ago, I met an eleven-year-old boy named Randy at a local homeless shelter. Randy was different from the other kids – his body was so rigid that when he turned his head, his whole body would have to turn. He also had a skin condition that left visible splotches of discolored skin on his face and bald spots on his head.
One day I saw him run into the lobby at the shelter to hide under a bench. His mom came steaming behind in a rage, looking for Randy. She found him and pulled him out from under the bench and started to kick him over and over while he was curled up in a fetal position.
 Over time, Randy and I got to be friends. He told me that he is afraid of his mom and that the other kids make fun of him. Randy's world is not like yours and mine. He hates his mom, has no friends, and lives in poverty. The day Randy moved out of the shelter, I gave him a hug.
And I have prayed for him many times since. I prayed that there would be a Veronica in his life. Veronica, according to the Catholic Church, was the woman who wiped the face of Jesus as he carried his cross to Calvary. She was the woman in the movie The Passion of the Christ who was so stirred when she saw the sufferings of her Lord that she broke through the soldiers who surrounded Jesus to wipe away some of the blood, spit and dirt on His face. Veronica did not hesitate do this – she didn't care if she would be whipped or beaten for helping her Lord. She didn't care if she lost her reputation for doing this one act of courageous love for her dying Lord. The day Randy left the shelter I prayed that a Veronica would break through Randy's anger to see his wounded heart and to gently wipe his face to remove all the scars of pain that have happened over his life. If Veronica wouldn't have reacted to her strong feelings as she looked at her Lord, the most beautiful gesture of love to our Savior would have been lost as a sympathetic feeling in the back of a crowd. 
The narrow street where Veronica wiped the face of Jesus is called "Via Dolorosa." Like Veronica, I am also standing in the crowd on Via Dolorosa. Like Veronica, I have only one opportunity to react to my sympathetic feelings; I only have one short lifetime to wipe away the blood on my Savior's face. I thank God that Veronica was courageous enough to fight the crowd and risk being whipped and losing her reputation. The Psalmist says, "Thy face Lord, I will seek." Our Lord's face was not beautiful that Good Friday. This Man of Sorrows is still with us in many ways, Randy being one. I will seek his face because Randy's face is also the face of my Savior.
Tonight, this night
There are children in bed
With no bedtime story
And no food to be fed.
In the dark, all alone
They lay with their tears.
With no mom to hug
Away all their fears.
In silence, their pain
Runs deep in their heart
To strangle all joy
And turn light into dark.
Lord, let my arms
Caress all their pain.
Let my tears bring forgiveness
So their soul has no stain.
Let my joy flow into
The void in their life.
Let my love go deep
And stop all their strife.
Let my light beam hope
For the life You have given
Let me sacrifice all
For the life they are living.
piece by Dean Robinson
email him about it at drobinson@Sebesta.com | 
