She is sassy and prissy and in English, her name means “Beauty.” She
puts up an independent front but we see right through it. She loves her best
friend, Fortunate, and being a social butterfly is important to her. She runs
around with a “my way or the highway” attitude and if she doesn’t receive the
amount of attention she thinks she deserves, she pouts.
The tall dead grass is taller than she is and a few days ago
she ran off on the trail, disappearing into the brown blades yelling, “I’m
never coming back!!” She said it about three more times and two minutes later
she was standing amongst us again attempting new ways to force us to look at
her.
Like many African girls, her hair is short, not even
reaching the back of her neck. With crooked teeth and bright eyes, she truly
identifies with her name, which means beautiful.
She’s the first child I spoke to here at our ministry site and the first thing my teammate Liz said upon meeting Beauty was, “Oh, she’s such a little African Ashli.”
I remember the moment I fell in love with her. Amy and
myself were teaching a dance class for the kids when Beauty decided she needed a
water break. After chugging three cups of water, she walked back over to the
rest of us and without hesitation, let out the largest belch I’ve ever heard
from a 7-year-old girl. It was such a proud moment for me.
She has walls around her heart and rightfully so because
she’s experienced more in her short seven years of life than most of us can
imagine. For the first couple of weeks she wouldn’t even let me close. I know
the way to a kid’s heart so I showed her my secret stash of marshmallows and
from then on she was hooked. It took her a while, but now she calls me her best
friend and I grin ear to ear every time. I ask her often, “Hey Beauty, who’s
your best friend?” Pointing at me she replies, “It’s yoouuu!” I then say, “No
Beauty, who’s your best African friend?” At which point she responds with, “Oh.
Fortunate.” Then we all giggle at the fact that I just said “best African friend.”
Yesterday we starting saying, “I love yooouuuu, I love
yyyooouuuu” over and over as we jumped up and down holding hands. Today I
taught her to point to her eyes when she says “I” – cross her arms over her
chest when she says “love” – and point out when she says “you!” It’s the cutest
thing you’ve ever seen.
I‘m probably a little biased, but in my eyes, Beauty can do
no wrong. No matter how many times she walks around with that bossy little
attitude of hers, shaking her hips, and running off to play in “Beauty’s World,”
— and regardless of the times she sprints up a trail, aching for attention,
yelling that she’s never coming back, she
still can do no wrong. I have learned a lot from Beauty but the thing I
think I’ve enjoyed most about this small brown friend of mine, is that without
realizing it, she’s taught me more about the God I serve and how HE views ME. I
only met her a couple of weeks ago but I love her already.
And if I love Beauty that much after such a short time, can
you imagine how much the Father loves me? When I’m sassy and bossy and prissy
and crying out for someone to look at me, He’s there. When other parents say to
ignore me because I just want attention, He’s there. He looks at me and smiles,
because He wants to give me the attention that I’m seeking. In His eyes, I can
do no wrong and He wants to scoop me up the way I do Buhle and tickle me until
my sass turns to praise and laughter.
This world has hurt me and when I put walls around my heart,
the way Beauty has, He shows me marshmallows.
And He’s got me hooked.
