Years ago. I can’t
remember exactly which year, but before all the adoption paperwork
started. Before the heartbreaking
failure of months and months of infertility treatments. The two of us, with hopes and dreams and the
excitement of the hope of little ones in our future, went shopping. It was our anniversary and Mark said, “I want
to do something that will bless you.” (I
love to shop, but he is a buyer, not a shopper.) We went shopping for little girls
clothes.
At this time we were living in the middle of nowhere in East
Asia and fashion there was not the same as what we can find in America. So this was really a day of hunting for
something remotely normal. He would hold
up a sweater and say, “this isn’t so bad.”
“Well, no, if this teddy bear with the lacy skirt wasn’t front and
center, it would be okay,” I replied. “What
about this dress?” “Um, no. Maybe that mouse is supposed to resemble
Mickey, but it’s just not cute.” And so
on the day went for a few hours. I was
attempting to educate Mark as to what makes little girls clothes cute and
acceptable to me. He was extremely
patient and we had lots of laughs.
Finally in the last store, we found something. A simple sleeveless t-shirt dress with a
flower pattern. And we hung on to it for
years…the dress and our hopes of the little girl who would fit into it.
It’s her favorite
dress.
Do little girls you know have this kind of dress? The if-it’s-clean-I’m-going-to-wear-it kind
of dress? She would wear it every day if
she could. When she puts it on she
twirls.
And my heart swells with joy inexplicable.
