On Tuesday, as I was shopping for groceries I happened to walk down the toy aisle. I thought it would be fun to look at the pretty, girly toys and imagine buying them for my Christiana.
As the mother of three sons, I've missed out on all of the girly fun. From pretty dollies to princess costumes... I've always been a bit sad when I've looked at the girls' toys. From the moment I discovered I was pregnant for the first time, I've had wistful dreams of eyelet dresses, tea sets, and dolls. I think at some point, every mother daydreams of having a daughter.
As I smiled at the bounty of pink in that aisle a small, soft "baby's first" doll caught my eye. It seemed just the thing for our Christiana. Small and soft... simple and cuddly. A perfect first doll for our tiny girl.
But then the realisation hit... this "baby's first" doll would really be her first doll. Children in orphanages don't have toys of their own. They don't have clothes of their own. They don't have anything of their own at all. The only things these children own are their names.
In the "better" orphanages the children have toys to play with. They don't have their own toys, but they do have toys to play with. Christiana hasn't grown up in one of those "better" orphanages. The orphanage where she's spent the first four and a half years of her life is at the other end of the spectrum. Not only do the children there not have toys of their own, they don't have toys at all. None.
Can you imagine a small child being deprived of a simple ball... or a stuffed animal to love? Can you even imagine how sad that is? I can. I did.
As I stood in that toy aisle, holding that small, soft baby doll... it suddenly hit me just how little my daughter has had in her short life. No mother, no father, no family. No toys.... not even the comfort of a small, soft doll to hold when she's alone.
So if any of you saw a lady in HEB on Tuesday, standing in the toy aisle and crying... that was me.
