“Mama, here are my barbies, we can give them to friends, I just like books now. And notebooks.”
“Ummm…wait, what!? Well, ok, actually, that’s ok. Ok.”
We donated them to Alex and Yana’s garage sale, and found her perfect Christmas dress in the piles.
The day Malala won the Noble Peace prize, Maria and I went and got her her own library card. She started Italian at her school.
Goodbye ladies. Their exit resembles to me the closing of a door, a step out of childhood, and towards her future.
Yet, also, to the entrance of restoration, the place that is supposed to be. The cliche of children growing up quickly feels stronger here. When we adopted a 10 year old, the extent of her life left her very young, and we were fortunate to participate in stages that would have otherwise been long gone. Yet I know, as her interests change, her heart, kind and strong, filled with caring and compassion and awed joy at the world, is still the same.
So we packed up the plastic girls, and tucked this life stage away. Closing the back cover of a book. Gladness for the time we got in those stages, knowing well that they were stepping stones in her life to where she is today. Barbies to books and confidence.
“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”
― E.E. Cummings
We remain with a sense of busyness, and not. The state of our lives, and the current pursuits leave us with little choices for extravagance. Yet, this is one of the things God often reminds me is a secret pearl of goodness, one of his better plans.
Elijah forms full sentences these days. He is busy, equal parts tender and spritely with toddler mischief, lip out.
Brave and filled with life, to the brim.
“E, what’s your favorite part about being alive?”
“Hippos, tacos, and snuggle you.”