Hopeful hug

Today, I was given a lot of hugs at church, because I will be going in for surgery tomorrow--a routine procedure these days. But I received one hug that was not for this reason, but for another entirely.

There is a family in our church, whose children's birth mother is a drug addict. When this family adopted them, these babies were hooked on crack. This morning at church, the little 4 year old girl came up to give me a hug during service. She's a tiny thing, with wise eyes, and wispy light brown hair, and a sweet, often solemn face. She noticed that my son was not with me at church. She's fond of Derek, I know, because her face lights up whenever she sees him, and he's always willing to lift her up and give her a bit of a swing in the air. When her adoptive mother told her that he was far away living at a grown-up school, the girl came over to give me a hug because she concluded I might be lonely without him.

There was a lot that came into that hug. This is a little girl who came into the world with some serious problems, born to a drug-addicted mother who almost killed her with neglect. But this child could look at me, a grown-up, and think about what I must be feeling, not having my own child with me. That's a lot of thinking, and empathy, for a child this age.

I think she will do all right: she's a loving child who dances in the aisles to hymns because the music makes her happy. No one stops her, and our pastor and people in the congregation have taken her hand and danced with her.

I think there is hope in the world when a child born in such a condition can think about the consequences of family, be empathetic, dance for joy, and inspire others to dance with her. And I'm thankful for adoptive parents like hers.

--Karen H.