Moya taught me to value moments over words.
I visited Blessed Assurance this past summer and absolutely fell in love with every resident there!
I bonded with Moya, who is deaf and mute. Due to her disabilities, I had to find creative ways to communicate with her. By the end of my week at Blessed Assurance, we had formed our own language—one that didn’t need words to be understood, but instead used smiles, hugs, in addition to hand motions. Moya taught me to value moments over words.
When I learned that Moya was able to read, write, and draw in spite of her disabilities, I was filled with wonder and excitement. I immediately sprinted to the mission house, grabbed a notepad and a purple Sharpie, and ran back to hear Moya’s voice. Taking the materials from me, she slowly spelled out her name, then a line of gibberish. I tapped this string of letters and gave her a puzzled look, to which she pointed to her ear - she had spelled out the blurred sounds she heard. A tear rolled down my cheek as I nodded and conveyed that I understood. Despite the illustration, her natural artistic inclination spoke to me more than words ever could. By the end of the day, drawings covered the pad of paper and wide smiles (and the occasional purple mark!) covered both of our faces.