Not literally, in fact I have a wonderful family waiting for me at home. But you read that right- I’ve been spiritually adopted; I have an African mother.
Now let me explain.
Ever since the night our host mom, Olivia, prophesied over me (see blog, “Mahoro Means Peace”) she shared with me how she felt led to adopt me as her spiritual daughter.
I, who had never had a spiritual mother or let alone have heard about the term until the Race, was altogether shocked, amazed and excited for what this would mean.
And what a special connection it has been!
While I’ve been spiritually adopted, Olivia has adopted all of my team and I, and we’ve felt like her daughters so much so that we call her, “Mama”.
From our late night talks to a restful and fun time hanging out at the Rouge (a very nice hotel with a pool and some of the best internet and bagels we’ve had all race) mama had invaded our hearts and mind with her kind, strong spirit.
Here’s a little fun moment I had with mama:
After a day at the Rouge, with mama and the team, we went on our way home, boarding a bus that would soon be packed to the brim with other passengers. Me, being me chose to stand so others could sit down, but mama, who had sat up in the front waved me over to her. She then had me sit in her lap, as a little girl would in her mother’s lap. Now it has been YEARS since I have sat in my own mother’s lap and me still not being a physical touch person was really shy and got flustered. But the thing about mama is that you don’t argue with her; you listen to her and do not argue.
Small instances such as these have become memorable moments of bonding and raw experiences of motherly love.
Here’s mama and I:
The sweetest, sassiest spiritual mom that ever lived! Umma don’t be jealous!
Saying goodbye to my host family this month will be D R E A D F U L. But how cool is it that I can say that because of how open and vulnerable my African mom was with my teammates and I. Not looking forward to our last day here…
