My One Year Old

It’s the early morning hours of my daughter’s first birthday, and I can’t sleep. As I listen to her gentle breathing in the other room through the baby monitor, my thoughts wander to what this day must have been like one year ago.

On December 4^th, 2007, on what was probably a warm and humid day on the other side of the world in Johannesburg, South Africa, our daughter made her entrance into the world under the most traumatic of circumstances, two months too early and without anyone to care for her and make her feel welcome or wanted.

No one was there to tell her that her life would change dramatically, that if she would just hang on and fight it out that she would be safe in two weeks’ time in a place of shelter where she would be lovingly cared for, and that within six months’ time she would be safe within in the arms of parents who had longed for her and prayed for her and looked forward to meeting her for several years. No one was there to speak to her of hope and of the future and of how much life would have to offer her.

But she hung on anyway, she fought it out anyway, and she survived that trauma anyway. God had huge plans for this little three pound baby and even then His hands were guiding her life on a path that would be perfect and just what she would need.

Of all of the places she could have ended up given her circumstances, she arrived at Door of Hope, a place where each child is given loads of loving attention and is prayed for daily. A place where one day, in April of this year, our little girl who had been steadily growing and getting healthier and healthier, was matched with a couple in Sweden who had been waiting and wondering, waiting and wondering.

Not too long after that, in June and just two days before her six month birthday, we watched as a caregiver walked around the corner toward us carrying our little Esther, who looked nothing like her referral pictures but everything like the cutest little baby we had ever seen. She stared at us a lot, and insisted on chewing on our fingers, and gave us a few of those facial expressions that we would grow to love, and I wonder often what was going through her mind during those first minutes as a family. What I do know is that God was there in that room, smiling at what He had brought together and happy about what He was seeing.

Six months have passed now, and it has been six months full of adventure for this little girl who has charmed us with her smiles and delighted us with her personality. She is a world traveller, having been on three continents in the space of three months. It is like she wanted to pack in as much adventure as possible in these past six months with us to make up for a relatively low-key lifestyle during her first six months at the orphanage.

Esther is a head-first-down-the-slide kind of girl, a Joy Bringer who melts hearts and breaks down walls.

I love going to get her in the mornings, when she awaits me opening the door to her room and pulls herself up so that her head is above the side of the bed and she grins that silly grin with her one front tooth.

I love mealtimes when we point at things and name them, Esther coming up with some bizarre sound effects to get her point across, then fake laughing when she knows she got it wrong.

I love watching her Pappa take her on walks in the carrier on his back, as he prays out loud and she babbles right along, and I wonder what it is she talks about.

I love watching her bring so much joy and delight to other people.

I love watching her grin and look up at me when we come to her favorite page in her favorite book, the BOOM BOOM BOOM page.

I love watching her watch the African Children's Choir video, trying her best to do the hand and arm motions.

I love watching her bob her head and wiggle her hips and swing her arms when she hears just about any music at all.

I love calling out , “I’m gonna getcha!” and watching her squeal and bounce and try to get away. I love holding her hands as she learns to walk, or rather learns to run because that is the kind of little girl she is.

I love watching her make her Pappa smile and laugh like no one else can.

I love smelling her hair and giving her kisses and playing our silly games that are just between her and me.

And although it saddens me in a small way that I missed her Birth-day a year ago because of all that she had to go through, I know for sure that this will be a very Happy Birthday for her indeed, together with people who love her immensely and are blessed by her life.

Happy Birthday, Esta! I LOVE YOU!