Meet the Family, Part 2 of 3 (or 4 or 5 or 9)

When I wrote the first post in this series, I thought I would only be writing about my eight girls in Grace Purple.  However, keep in mind that the Purple apartment is on the first floor of Grace, and my room is in the Yellow apartment on the third floor.  

When Jenny, Yellow’s foster mom, left at the beginning of December, I kinda took over them, too. Initially, it was just making sure they didn’t fight or get on the ayah’s nerves too much, but it’s evolved since then. Now, I pretty much divide my time and energy between the apartments.  This is a conversation I had with Honor, one of Jenny’s girls a few weeks ago:

“Marla, are just your girls your children?”

“What do you mean, Honor?”

“Are we your children, too?”

“Do you want to be my children, Honor?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.  Then you are my children, too.”

The ayahs have been working with Grace Purple on calling me “Marla Mummy” instead of “Marlakka,” which means big sister.  I love it, but I don’t require it—although the ayahs often scold Angel if she calls me sister!  So I started calling my girls “[Name]-Kuthuru” or daughter.  

Walking with me to get chapatti and curry the other night, Honor got onto me for saying something was for “my girls.”  I had to explain that it’s easier to separate the apartments by “my” and “Jenny’s” girls, even though Jenny is gone, and even though I love them just as much.  She paused and then thought this seemed reasonable enough, but didn’t necessarily like it.  

I asked her, “Honor, do you want me to call you Honor-chelli (little sister), or Honor-Kuthuru?”

She thought about it, and then said “Honor Kuthuru.” 

Something so simple as being called “mine,” being called “my daughter,” means so much to this girl.  I am honored that she loves me and can see my heart for her even through all the stressful moments and crazed instances where I deserve her asking, “What’s your prrrroblem?!”  But it also saddens me that she has such a need to belong, such a desire to be someone’s.  She shouldn’t have to feel that way at her age. But right now, I’m glad I can be here, glad I can let her belong to me.

The next girl I’ll talk about is Phoebe, who just amazes me.  Phoebe is a brilliant girl who happens to be completely blind.  It doesn’t stop her from doing much of anything though, thankfully!  She never ceases to impress me:  last summer, she learned how to type all her letters, AND how to write the entire alphabet.  She now writes her name in second grade-ish scribble, but does it without any help AND in a straight horizontal line.  She styles my hair in braids, translates rules and punishments to the little kids for me, and can navigate the building better than anyone else! Phoebe is starting to use her creative juices and type stories when I have her practice on my laptop, and it’s always a treat to see what she comes up with—or know when she needs to backspace.  Most recently, she received a bicycle (per her request) for Christmas.  She can't see, but the training wheels allow me to run alongside her and steer.  Sometimes I have to full on sprint to keep up! In short, I love watching this girl tackle new ground and can't wait to see what her future holds!