After a really hectic 12 hour work day spent slinging out copy at the speed of sound and cursing the world for not understanding the word deadline, I came home to an absolutely lovely letter from the child I sponsor through Children’s International. Well actually it was from her mother since she is three, and “too young to write” (my heart kind of melted when I read that).
When I say I sponsor a child, it is actually my very thoughtful ex-boyfriend Zach who gave me the sponsorship as a present, and to my surprise, it is really one of the most meaningful gifts I have ever received. In all honesty, I’ve never really been a kid person. I mean, I like them of course, but I always thought I would be fine with or without kids. And at 29, I still don’t feel that “must have babies” sentiment yet. But as my friends, like Stacey, have started to have babies, I realized that they’re pretty interesting.
Just the other day when I was at Stacey’s, her son Ollie expertly put my JP Tod’s purse on his shoulder, made some very convincing mock calls on my cell phone, and fed me some macaroni with his little paw. What a fun and generous child! I’m beginning to see the intrigue in watching a person grow. It’s fun with my sponsored child Francisca too.
Being that she lives in Chile, I was worried after the recent earthquake, but Children’s International, figuring all us yanks would be in a tizzy, immediately sent me a letter assuring me that Francisca and her family were okay. Feewf! Francisca’s family also writes to tell me about the fun she has chasing around her cat or how she excels in art class, and frankly I’m starting to feel very invested in her future. I’m pretty convinced that I’m sponsoring Chile’s future president. All this for a kid I have never even met. Ah, the power of hand written letters.
This past weekend Craig and I randomly decided we should motorcylce through South America in the near future. He is currently obsessed with buying a motorcycle again, since in Nebraska they start riding them at 11. He used to do wheelies on Grandma Brown’s farm before he could tie his shoes. So maybe I will be able to hop down to Chile some time and meet Franny to thank her for her letters and for being a kid who helped me realize that those little rugrats aren’t so bad after all.