She wriggled through the small mob of children around me and wedged herself between my knees and the pew in front of me. I pushed my back against the wood, making room for her to slip by. But she didn’t want to slip by. Instead, she stretched her arms wide and proceeded to dangle from the back of the pew. She wanted her picture taken. So I raised my camera.
I turned the camera around and she grinned at what she saw in its small screen. I snapped another. And another. And another. And then those eyes – pupils swallowed up in dark brown – did something very familiar.
I laughed out loud, the way you do when someone starts a joke you know ends well. You’ve heard it a hundred times but it never gets old.
I know a girl like this one. Three years-old. No pupils. A poser and expert eye crosser.
The girl I know is back home tonight. She probably wooed her way to a plate of macaroni and cheese sometime today. She probably spent the day playing dolls with my wife and riding her scooter down the driveway with her big brother. She’s saying her bedtime prayers about now.
I thought of her as this little girl hung from the pew and then, finally, let go and climbed confidently into my lap to run her palms over my whiskers. She smooshed my skin and marveled at how it turned white under her thumb and then slowly returned to it’s normal pinkish color when she let up. So expressive. So much awe generated by the visit of a pale stranger with a camera and a long lap.
Why don’t I pay better attention when the Dora the Explorer DVDs are playing in my house? If only I knew more Spanish than what I need to find a toilet. I knew she wouldn’t understand a word, but I talked anyway. I told her the things I tell my kids. You’re such a smart girl. You are so beautiful. I love you, you know it?
Today’s project director told us most of the sponsored children there don’t receive letters from their sponsors. That means hundreds of children – part of that ”the world” God loves so much – aren’t being told they are smart and beautiful and loved as often as they could be.
If only those sponsors could have sat in my pew today. If they could feel those tiny fingers dancing across their skin. If they could hear the giggles and tickle the ribs. If the children Compassion International serves could become as real and valuable as our own, well, every child would be sponsored and every sponsor would write to them the words they shower their own children with every day. You are such a smart girl. You are so beautiful. I love you, you know it?
Thomas says:
After reading Brian’s post today, it reminded me that I need to write to the child I am sponsoring. I wish that I was better at it then I am. I am thankful that compassion has a place on it’s site so I can type my letters in and just send it off with just a click of a button.
Thank you Shaun for all you are doing. Praying for you all.
Thomas
Andrea says:
This is so beautiful.
My 4 yr old son has been the first in our family to “write” a letter to our sponsor daughter. We’re still waiting for her info so we know where to send it off to, but the pride in his eyes when he told me who his artwork was for just melted my heart. If our littlest ones can get it, surely we can remember, too.
Shaun Groves says:
Andrea, Compassion sends a letter writing form with your monthly “statement.” That form comes with an addressed envelop. Every sponsor letter goes to Compassion HQ in Colorado Springs, CO and is then passed on to your child’s country’s Compassion office for you.
Grovesfan says:
I enjoy writing to our sponsored children so much. I remember the first time I told my sweet Wedner that he was handsome. He replied “you think I’m handsome? WOW!” We recently received a new photo of Mary’s little girl with the new clothes she received with her birthday money. It melted my heart so say the least. We continue to pray for you and the blog team this week.
Beth
jen says:
Hi Shaun, I just sponsored a child and I’m writing a letter to send to her. I’m studying Spanish and I was wondering if you knew if its ok if I write to her in Spanish, or should I just write to her in English and let the translator in Honduras translate it for her?
Thanks!
jen
Kenyon says:
Just today my daughter put her first letter to her adopted “sister” in the mail. Her name is Edith and she lives in Ghana. I my daughters letter and it ended with this statement. “I think you are pretty.” Scrawled in a way that only an 8 year old can write. What a beautiful statement…What a beautiful work God is doing!
Shaun Groves says:
You can try it, Jen, but our translators are excellent too. If writing in Spanish to a Spanish reader is anything like speaking Spanish to a Spanish speaker though? You might get laughed at ; ) I’m getting used to that here in the DR.
Thank you for writing your sponsored children, everybody. I can’t even explain how much your words mean to these children and their families.
Nancy Tyler says:
They’re not laughing at your Spanish Shaun; they’re laughing at your NashTexas drawl.
Cathy Davis says:
Oh between reading your blog, Melanie’s and Sophie’s, I just can’t stand it. If I wasn’t at work, I’d be a weepy mess. How beautiful.
beccy says:
I am one of those who has sponsered for years and hasn’t written much or at all. Feel guilty about it all the time, but sometimes barely making it in my own life. Thanks for the reminder to make it more of a priority and habit! :o)!