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| Lindsey, 9 months old |
I have a shadow box that hangs on the wall in my bedroom. It displays a picture of Mayah, a plastic bead bracelet made by a 5-year-old Meagan, a T-shirt that says "daddy loves me", and the stuffed lamb that came attached to a vase of memorial flowers. The question occurred to me the other day, "That's it? This little box encapsulates her entire life?" Which got me to thinking about what makes a life valuable. When Mayah passed away we received a lot of condolences, many of them comforting and helpful, a few of them not. Among the not so helpful was, "At least she died before you officially adopted her." (You might recall that she died 3 weeks before we were to travel. And we signed her 'confirmation to adopt' letter, ironically, the day before her death) That is to say, the emotional and financial expenditure of having a child who lived only a few weeks would not be "worth it." Do you remember little Lindsey (see above)? She was the child that Mayah's Fund sponsored last year. The last post-op report I received was that her lip had healed beautifully and that she was beginning to walk and talk and thrive in her foster mother's care. And the picture was of a bright-eyed chubby almost toddler. Oh, so undeniably worth it! Then I got an email that she passed away just before Christmas. She had contracted meningitis and died at home in the arms of her foster mother. Still worth it? I mean, to help heal her, only for her to die 6 months later? Well, as far as I'm concerned the answer is a resounding, "Yes!" All of the reasons why Mayah died will, at least in this life, be a mystery. But over the past 5 years I have discovered more than enough value in her short life. For instance, her life has taught me so much about God's character (seriously so, so much), about being sensitive to others who are hurting, about priorities, heaven, sacrifice, joy, and the list could go on and on. Lessons no one can even begin to put a price tag on. I'd say we got the better end of the deal. And so here we are again, ready to sponsor another child. Ready to paste some amateurish photos onto cards in the hopes of raising a few hundred dollars to brighten just one child's life. Hopefully for years and years to come, but maybe only for months, weeks or days. At this moment I actually can't think of a more worthwhile endeavor.
