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Leea Collard – CFGJ Law Clerk – “The Healing Power of Bubbles”


The Healing Power of Bubbles

Hello! My name is Leea Collard, and I am a second-year law student at Regent University School of Law in Virginia Beach, VA.

This year, I have the pleasure of serving as a Law Clerk in the Center for Global Justice. Like many of you, my heart was shattered this summer as news from Afghanistan flooded American phones, televisions, and newspapers. In September, the Center for Global Justice (“CGJ”) learned about a pressing need among the Afghan refugees relocated to a military base.

A contact of mine at the base informed the CGJ team that the newly-resettled refugees were struggling to make tea for their families because the hot water provided to them cooled off during their walk from the dining hall to their “homes.”

Together, the Center of Global Justice, the Journal of Global Justice and Public Policy, and World Relief’s “Women of Welcome” delivered over 500 thermoses and tea kettles to Afghan refugees. The remainder of this blog post is written about events that occurred while I was delivering thermoses to the base.

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The Healing Power of Bubbles

When I was a child, I had a yellow lab named Nala. Nala was not only the sweetest dog, but she was my childhood best friend.

While Nala had an affinity for playing frisbee (as pictured), she also loved eating these supposedly chocolate-flavored bubbles that I had.

We would play outside for hours. Me blowing bubbles in the wind and Nala running around popping them. Since Nala crossed the rainbow bridge, I hadn’t blown bubbles.

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Volunteering

Several weeks ago, I traveled with some fellow law students to deliver thermoses to Afghan refugees. And to spend time welcoming them to the United States. Upon arriving, we went to a large field that I can only assume is traditionally used for military PT.

When I got out of my car, I was given bottles of bubbles, with which I was to entertain a group of children. After a couple hours of blowing bubbles, I was cold, sticky, and wet. Though I wanted to quit blowing bubbles and warm up my hands, I kept blowing bubbles.

As hour four of bubble blowing approached, two little Afghan girls walked up to me. One was three years old, and the other was four. When my eyes met theirs, I could tell that they both had seen some things that they didn’t understand. They were scared, far from home, and curious about this blonde American girl blowing bubbles like crazy. The very first time they blew bubbles, they both lit up with joy and had some of the deepest belly laughs I’ve ever heard.

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The Healing Power of Bubbles

At that moment, I remembered what it was like to be a kid. At that moment, I remembered blowing bubbles with Nala. I realized that I hadn’t taken joy in the small things in a long time.

In an instant, two little Afghan girls taught me so much–there is still joy to be found amid trauma, enjoy the small things, and you will never go through so much that you can’t laugh.

While I was at the military base to love, welcome, and teach, I was the one who walked away feeling loved, welcomed, and taught.

I watched these two precious babies take this (pictured) shiny yellow bottle of bubbles “home” with them. As they walked away, I realized that they would be sad when the bubbles ran out.

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But, God corrected that thought and replaced it with: “Even if empty, this bottle of bubbles has shown them My love.”

God has His hand upon these little girls. I pray that He uses them mightily. Will you join me in praying for these girls and for all Afghanistan’s children? And thanking him for the moments we had together and for the healing power of bubbles!

For information about Virginia’s Resettlement Program and how to support refugees in your community, please visit: https://www.dss.virginia.gov/community/ona/refugee_services.cgi and https://worldrelief.org/refugees-immigrants-and-displaced-people/.

This post was written by a Center for Global Justice Law Clerk. The views expressed in this post do not necessarily reflect those of Regent University, Regent Law School. Or the Center for Global Justice.