My Favorite Day

September 12

Today was my favorite day.

I spent the entire day holding little hands and receiving little kisses and thinking

It doesn’t get any better than this.

It doesn’t get any better than this.

So many times I have thought to myself wow. Now I really love these kids. And then a couple weeks later I think no now I really love these kids.

But today?

I really love these kids.

It’s funny to me how wherever you go people are people. We all have struggles and memories and childhoods and quirks and personalities and pain and laughter and a life.

Whenever I was home in America going to school or working at camp or hanging out with friends these kids were here. Living just as much as I was.

And I just think of how

we lived completely separate and different lives in such very different places and

I am so incredibly blessed to somehow know you. To have somehow ended up here.

Getting here was a process and a half and a whole lot of questioning and wondering if this was what I should do or wanted to do or if it was safe or okay or smart

and I spent so much time worrying and wondering and questioning

and asking for advice and praying

but after it all I ended up here

with these kids

and so many times I look around at the little smiles or up at the infinite stars or down at the hands in mine

and I know this is where I need to be.

I know it was worth every tear cried and dollar raised and moment of wondering

is this right? Is this really what I should do?

Little Dagner was never much of a hugger. He is just the cutest thing and I could just hug him forever but I seem to like it a whole lot more than he does. But the last few days? He doesn’t pass without a hug and he won’t let go until he looks up at me and says, “I love you, Teacher.”

Armando just recently reluctantly lets me hug him. But tonight? I sat next to him at Vespers and I put my arm through his and he just sat there with me the whole time and wow I adore him.

Today was cold. I’m talking the kids wore sweaters and hats and I wore my fuzzy socks and you could look outside to see the older boys walking with their shoulders up high and hands in their pockets and at night you could see your breath in the air.

It was a taste of fall and winter. Those seasons I’ll miss.

It resulted in constant hugs all day and a perfect excuse to snuggle with all these little kids.

There were a few hours today when nothing was going on, so I sat outside my house with Karol, Kevin, and Dani and my little boys went back and forth between sitting with us and playing in the dirt. Some of the boys from the Frijoles house came over, too. It was such a fun afternoon.

And then tonight we had a bonfire and popcorn and hot chocolate and sang songs.

Ah. Perfection.

Two months ago I was a college student with a degree to get.

Now I’m a mother to eight boys and a teacher to forty-seven.

And I hope to never go back to who I was.

I hope to never forget what it’s like to stand in a circle of people swinging up our arms proclaiming “Happy Week!” over and over again.

I hope to never forget what it’s like to sit outside my little thatch-roofed house watching my boys crack open fruit with a rock, and then run over to give me a million kisses.

I hope to never forget what it’s like to run see little Maribel running around from kid to kid, each one accepting her with open arms.

I hope to never forget what it’s like to watch Luis Migel on the swing Andrew made, sitting like an old man and making airplane noises while I laugh hysterically and take a video.

I hope to never forget what it’s like to sit under the stars on a cold night at a bonfire, Rodrigo in my lap and Ronald sitting next to me, singing

I believe You’re my Healer.

I believe You are all I need.

I hope to never forget today.