May 21st

I was eating my dessert today sitting on a couch on our little “balcony” area of the house. The day of course was hot and I was really enjoying this chocolate-covered cookie (some kind of donation the children received from Dominican Republic) when all of a sudden two of the schoolgirls come up. They were two girls who have probably seen me running around the school, all stressed out (they probably don’t understand if I am ever walking too fast or looking stressed because Haitians in general don’t seem to “rush”). To me, they were just one of the 800 students that I smile to everyday (of course there are some I know by name, but these two girls were not them). I thought how sneaky are they , they are here at the house and not where they are supposed to be. Our little camp area is about a five-minute walk from the school. I wanted to tell them to please go back to school because they really are not supposed to come all the way to where we live, but I thought that if I was their age I would be doing exactly the same thing. So, how can I blame them? I thought they were probably just curious and wanted to see where we lived.
They asked me my name and I was in the middle of eating my cookie so they had to wait a second and during this second I felt so guilty for eating a cookie, which I’m sure looked delicious, in front of them. During this second I almost wanted to offer them one, but I thought I couldn’t offer them anything because I couldn’t offer it to everyone.
I told them my name, in french, of course, and they handed me an envelope. I am now understanding french more everyday and I know they said they wanted me to read it and respond, that they would be waiting for my response.
I read the letter in my room. I could understand most of it. Carolina, the other Costa Rican, translated it later today for me. It said:


“I love you (J t’aime) and I ask you to accept me as your daughter. Mommy and daddy died during the catastrophe on January 12. I can’t live like this. I ask that you accept me as your daughter. I think about you every day, accept me as your daughter, thank you. Patience so that you will tell me if you will be my mom.”

I am not sure if this is a girl that really knows me or a girl who just wanted to hand it to a “blanc” girl. I will find out. I’m going to write her back. I’ll have to get inspired and then Carolina will translate it.