My little darlin' is turning 11 this year.
Eight years ago I saw her lying on a crowded table at Creation Northwest in a little plastic pouch. "Her favorite activity is singing," it said. I could see her in my head, a gorgeous eyed, dark skinned three year old with crazy braids all over her head, singing as she bounced around her little Haitian hut. I have no idea if Fabiola lived in a hut, but in my head she did. A little one with a mud floor.
I thought, at that time, "This girl is special and she needs me." That might have been true, I think that God did bring me to that table and put this girl in front of me. But I think that He wanted to teach me something new about "benevolence" and "charity" through that little three year old girl. He wanted to teach me about the lies of poverty and why I too hated the poor. He wanted to show me that merely giving wasn't enough, that true Christ-like love is found in respect, hope, and partnership.
She stole my heart with memories of Haiti still fresh in my mind, and I thought, "One day I'm going back there and I'm going to meet this little girl."
Now, eight years later, not only am I going to meet her, but I'm going to celebrate her birthday with her.
Bon Fêt, cheri! Bon Fêt!