We had a famiversary in our home last week. It was the eighth anniversary of the wild week in Ethiopia where we met our two youngest daughters. Our first Christmas together was wonderful and stressful and amazing. I love to tell the story of our first day together in our home. Our little girls love to hear it and we often retell it at home. I decided it bears repeating here as well.
We arrived at the Minneapolis airport late at night after 30 hours of stressful travel. We had asked our family not to greet us, thinking that it would be better for the girls to meet everyone after we had rested some. However, a small group of family and friends arrived, celebrated our arrival, retrieved our car from the distant and cold airport lot, and drove us the four hours back home. As I settled in the backseat with our two new family members snuggled into their carseats and my nephew at the wheel, I was ever so grateful that my family didn’t listen to me!
We arrived home around three in the morning and spent our Sunday sleeping and eating and trying to find a few things that our new 4.5 year old would eat. Communicating was difficult. She didn’t know any English and we didn’t know any Amharic. We communicated in smiles and gestures.
That evening was the Christmas program. Eight year old Thomas had a part and we decided to brave the trip to church. We joked that both of our newest daughters needed a mama. I was that mama to our new almost five year old and my husband was the mama to the baby.
We arrived late and ushered Thomas into the back with the rest of the kids. Steve and I decided to hold our respective babies on our lap in the back. As we settled in my little one pointed at the front of church where the cross was illuminated and said in English “Jesus?” Her eyes grew wide and with excitement she said again, “Jesus?”
Yes dear daughter. Jesus was with you in Ethiopia and He is here too, sweet one.
