just say something

last night i watched a movie called "gigot" with my parents. to be honest, the only reason i watched it was to spend time with them. i was in no way interested in the movie at all, even though it was a "classic favorite" of my dads. the movie is about a slighty mentally impaired man who is also mute (he can't talk). he is a very sweet and kind man. he even spends his wages to buy broken cookies to give to the neighborhood dogs. one night, after being made fun of again (which is all the people do to him - no one shows him any kindness)he sees a little girl standing alone in a dark doorway. as he walks over to her, she runs to the next doorway to a drunk woman laying on the ground. he helps them up and takes them back to his little appartment. he shows them great generosity and kindness. later that day, he takes the little girl along for his daily walk around town. he stops in front of a catholic church to rest and give some more cookies to the dogs that are following him. when he looks back, the little girl is gone. he runs into the church and finds her playin in the holy water. he loving shows her what the water is for and then takes her to the front of the church. when they get there, the little girl tugs on his sleeve and points to a crucifix hanging on the wall. "who is that man?" she asks him. when he realizes who she is askin about, his eyes light up. but he can't talk. so he tries pointing to another statue of the virgin mary holding baby Jesus. but she doesn't understand. he tries pointing at another statue and making gestures, but she still doesn't understand. you can see the frustration and earnestness on his face as he tries to figure out how he can tell this little girl about who God is. but as he realizes once agian that he cannot talk, his face is covered with anger. he stares at the crucifix with hatred and opens his mouth to utter a silent scream as he shakes his fist at the Man on the cross. then he starts beating himself with his fists on the head and in the face....
then the little girl screams his name..."GIGOT!!!" he stops and slowly looks at her...there is concern in her eyes as she stares up at him. she takes his hand, smiles, crosses herself, blows a kiss to the cross, and tugs at his hang, leading him away.
for some reason, i haven't been able to get that scene out of my head. and here is why: so many times, we have the oppurtunity to tell others about Christ and what He has done for us, and yet we don't and think nothing of it. yet here is a man who cannot speak who is so passionate about telling a little girl about what Jesus did for us that he starts to beat himself when he realizes he can't. why don't we have that passion? why do we not have that desperation in our eyes when we realize that someone does not understand that Jesus is the only way?

and why is there always a still small voice that calls us back from our endless tirades or downward spirals of self-hatred, the voice that smiles at us, takes our hand, and helps us to realize that although we fail, life goes on and we have another chance?