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Reflecting on the wonders of my daughter’s face, golden like butterscotch candy, I marvel at how she so resembles her father and me at the same time. He is Ireland, I am Africa, yet God blended our blood, knitting together our DNA to forge a miraculous being … Amelia.
“You have your father’s eyes.” She is often told.
“She has your smile.” These words never fail to tickle my heart.
She is him. She is me. She is both, plus more … something new and beautiful that is uniquely Amelia. Rich history in her veins, the promise of a boundless future—she is our love in flesh. Why then, during her formation, did the Master Crafter decide to sprinkle her nose with freckles and dot her eyes with flecks of green? Whimsy flows around her, our color-blind ambassador. She lives none of the injury we’ve known, lavishing love on humanity like her Father. She sees hearts, not outward appearances, teaching us every day to do the same. When did He impart such wisdom?
God’s joy in crafting Amelia is evident in the incidentals. She sparkles unexpectedly, in word and deed, and as the sun’s rays enjoy her skin, she giggles, dancing in a heavenly spotlight. He dressed her in dimples and the bounciest of curls, molding her features from opposites, or so says the world. Her lashes rake the air, framing eyes, curious and gentle.
“I love you, Mommy,” she tells me twenty times a day.
“I love you, Daddy,” she blesses my husband at least as much.
When one of us is sad or angry, Amelia is quick with healing words. A supportive, nurturing first grader, she understands the power of peace and seeks it out. Unafraid. How did God make this child so strong?
Mommy. Daddy. Amelia. He crafter her for us, from us. Her very existence proves that despite what others may suggest, we’re not so different after all.
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