This little light of mine

Sometimes I look at this kid, and I cannot believe the measure of good fortune that has made her my daughter.

Three years ago this month we sent in an application to our adoption agency, with the plan to adopt a little girl. Of course, back then we were so new to the process, so unsure what it would all mean. Still we were convinced, finally, that we needed another child in our family, that adoption made more sense than trying to get pregnant again, that maybe somewhere out there in the world a child might need us.

And the bureaucratic gears turned and eventually Chakisae -- whose name means light -- was matched with us. It all seemed so random.

And yet now it is all so perfect. She is ours, and we are hers, and she is a light in our lives. And she likes to sing "This little light of mine," which is on one of her kid CD's (though it's not her favorite song. That would be "If I had a $1 million" by Bare Naked Ladies).

She wanted to go for a walk tonight after dinner, while Jim and Ben went to the batting cage. For a moment I thought about saying no, because there was the table to clear and the dinner stuff to put away, but I'm glad I said yes.

She stopped to pet the neighbor's cat but shooed me away. "You 'lergic, Mommy." She oohed the spooky Halloween decorations we saw along the way. She picked up a stick. She ran. She said a house we'd walked by many times was a "cool house" but said our house was good too, especially the hallway, which was "beautiful." She said we had to cross at the corner because that was the rule.

She held my hand. She made my day.

She does that all the time.