A letter

Hi, mom!

I am back from Malawi. Malawi? More on that later.

I thought you would want to know that I stopped in to check on Paulo the other day.

I told him that I had a present for him. From you. Because he was so brave.

And he thought, "A present? For me? What is this all about?"

Then he opened it up and shook my hand and said, "Thank you very much." (In Portuguese, of course).

See? He really likes it. I was a little jealous. It's a nice shirt.

More later.

Love you.

Little love...

Alyssa

2006-2010

You were so tiny when I started working as one of your caregivers.

I was always so nervous that I would do something wrong: forget a medication, not clean tubing well enough, fall asleep and miss some subtle change in your breathing.

Time passed and my nerves began to settle. You grew from tiny baby to little girl and I grew to love you. You were so sweet and dear to me.

I would sit there all night long and think and pray and pray. Why didn't God heal you? Why didn't He help me help you more? I wanted you to enjoy a night of sweet sleep, but sometimes nothing I did seemed to help you settle. There were a few tears sometimes, too. This is an imperfect world and my heart ached for what should be.

There were lots of other questions that ran through my mind in all the nights I watched over you. I thought about how people go on and on about what makes a meaningful life, about what it means to be a contributing member of society.

Does the ability to walk or talk define a life? The ability to go to school and get a job one day in the distant future? What consumerist garbage.

God used you to teach me that it is love that defines a life.

And you were (and are) very, very loved.

I was never sure how much you could understand this, but I know you understand it perfectly now and I am so glad for you.

You are missed, little love.