this is rosalee. she is 6 years old.
she gets her own clothes off the line.
she knows how to give herself a shower [the RiGHT way].
she sweeps and helps mop the floors every day.
she’s wiser than her years.
this month i get to say, “iT’S oKAY”
it’s okay to be a little girl. to play. to sing. to cuddle.
to listen to bed time stories. to feel like the world is small.
today i get to be the heart, hands, and feet of Jesus to this little girl.
it was my first 8-hour shift taking care of the “big girls” here at the orphanage.
i kicked my flip flops off at the door and made my way up the cold cement stairs.
as i reached the top, i found myself nose-to-nose with a little girl.
she had one knee bent, her little fists pressed into her hips, and her lips tightened into a smirk.
before i could even say Hello, she asked me, “how long are you here for?!”
before i could even say Hello, she asked me, “how long are you here for?!”
if she would have asked me that question 8 months ago [when my journey had just began] my answer would have been a quick, “for 8 hours… or until you fall asleep”
but i knew that wasn’t what she wanted to know.
she wanted to know whether or not i was going to be there long enough for her to get attached.
she wanted the freedom to decide if i would be worth the risk of attachment… attachment that typically ends in abandonment.
so i told her the truth. i told her i would be there to sing and dance, cuddle, read her bedtime stories and anytime stories, help her with her chores, and play with her for the next month.
she paused for about 5 seconds, and then leaped off the chair, unannounced, clinging to my neck with all her weight.
she decided that would be the best way to tell me i was worth the risk.
it’s going to be a good month.
[rosalee leading merryjoy and johncarlo through the field!]
