a washcloth lovey


I do not consider myself an optimist…I am married to one though.

I do not consider myself a pessimist, either.

The glass is not half empty or half full…it is just a glass with enough water.

I’m learning that so much of how I face life is a matter of perspective. It is a matter of how I choose to see things and where I allow my mind to dwell.

I can either see weeds.

Or I can see a bouquet of flowers with ombre violet petals.

My youngest daughter has spent basically her entire life in an orphanage. A poor orphanage. There are hard realities to her situation. Very hard truths. From others familiar with her current home, we’ve heard that each baby is given a white washcloth at night for sleeping. For those babies, the washcloths are a comfort item…a “lovey” if you will. Each morning I assume they are gathered up and washed.

I can take the hard truths I’ve learned about her life and dwell on the pain and injustice my daughter has already faced, but dwelling there does nothing. Or I can be thankful for the gift of knowing what might comfort her when we meet. I will be a stranger to her. I’ll be scary and unknown. I’ll look weird to her and sound weird and smell weird. She will be taken from her ‘home’ and placed in my arms – a stranger’s arms.  There will be little I can do in those first moments together. However, I’ve been given a gift. Her ‘lovey’ could have been any number of things I have no way of ever replacing. But, it is a simple white washcloth. I can get that for her. Goodness, I could fill a whole room with them if she wanted.

So, choosing to see the gift it is to know that a washcloth might provide her comfort in her early days with me…I made my very first purchase for my youngest daughter.

Who knew there are at least 10 different types of white washcloths in one store? Every price range. Every level of softness.

I picked up and felt every one. The cheapest seemed so rough. The most expensive were so fluffy and soft – surely not what she was used to cuddling. I went for a simple ‘mid-level’ washcloth. Not too rough, not too soft. Hopefully it would feel familiar.

Every glimpse into her life is a gift. Even the hard ones that make this mommy’s heart ache at the deepest levels. Every glimpse allows me to know her better, to understand her needs and to find ways to meet her where she is at now. Being able to purchase a semi-soft washcloth as my baby’s first gift is just as wonderful as the adorable first shoes I bought her big sister. In a very small way, it might help her feel and know my love.

Don’t worry…all the cute little shoes and fun etsy finds will be purchased next 🙂

It is going to be so fun to blast this blog with photos of her cutie patootie face one day. FireCracker’s favorite new things to carry are pictures of her little sister. In fact, if you saw us at Target, Martha’s Health Foods, the post office or the coffee shop yesterday….you saw these pictures because my little FireCracker was sure to share them with EVERYONE that even glanced in our direction. Proud big sister – I sure think so.

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