Saturday, December 8, 2012


It's twelve minutes until midnight, and our kids fell asleep only about fifteen minutes ago.  My thoughts have been drifting today to this story, and for whatever reason, it is utterly heartbreaking to me.

A group of our relatives in the area got together tonight for a Christmas gathering, which is why we are all up so late.  One moment tonight: my husband and one of his adult nephews were playing guitars side-by-side as everyone sang Christmas carols.  The wonderfully awful "Last Christmas" was requested, so they obliged.  As the crowd jumbled the words to each verse and sang loudly during the catchy chorus, I kept looking at our daughter as she watched the guitar players and sang along.  My heart swelled.  She has been with us for only sixteen months, adopted as a six-year-old after she lost both her parents in Ethiopia.

As this horrible song was being enthusiastically played and sung by my husband's relatives, I kept looking at our daughter.  She was facing my husband and his nephew as they played. She was singing along, her face bright and happy.  It felt like a miracle, a miracle that she is here with us, a miracle that out of such loss, a moment like this can come to this really beautiful girl, a miracle that I'm conscious enough to notice it.

Soundtrack by George Michael.

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