Almost four years ago, I carefully put up a picture of a six year old girl on our refrigerator. Intentionally choosing that location as it is one we pass by frequently, I wanted to give myself and my family the best chance of remembering her daily. Our church had just partnered with a small rural community on the other side of the world in the tiny nation of Swaziland and with that, we had the opportunity to sponsor a child. Sponsorship can mean different things to different people and organizations, but within the umbrella of Children’s Hopechest, it basically means you get the opportunity to build relationship with a child through letter writing, prayer and maybe traveling to meet them someday while financially supporting the carepoint your sponsored child or “special friend” attends daily for a hot meal, clean water, basic medical care, school fee support and discipleship.
I remember pouring over pictures of hundreds of children’s faces – all waiting for a special friend. How was I going to choose? I kept coming back to the same girl – the one with the timid smile and bright eyes. She was the same age as my oldest daughter and in the back of my mind I thought – “how incredible would it be if they got to meet someday?” My family and I began praying for her daily, writing her letters and sending pictures. My children would ask me questions about her that I couldn’t answer, but then a letter came from her that provided a broader glimpse into her life. Not that we ever doubted she existed, but receiving something tangible SHE touched and wrote was meaningful to all of us. Up on the refrigerator it went.
Ten months after I first saw the picture of the little girl with the timid smile and bright eyes, I found myself in Swaziland leading the first team trip from our church – chomping at the bits to find “my” girl in the crowd of beautiful Swazi children. I didn’t find her the 
first day. I didn’t find her the second day. Third day was a bust too. On the fourth day, I was beginning to lose hope, but then I spotted a group of three girls headed my way, pointing. Two of them were obviously leading a third. Over one of the girl’s shoulders, I saw a set of familiar bright eyes. My heart skipped a beat. I wanted to run over, yell her name and scoop her up. However, there was no big smile or natural embrace; instead we nodded at each other with clear recognition as I mustered up a morsel of restraint. I smiled, knelt down and introduced myself. She needed the older children to interpret, but they confirmed that she indeed recognized me. I asked if I could hold her hand.
Over the course of that week, I got to color, sing and play alongside her. To say she was
shy would be an understatement, but over the course of the next three years through exchanging letters and two more trips to Swaziland, she and I have shared many sweet moments together. I was able to visit her home, meet her grandmother who was caring for her along with her aunts and cousins. Her English improved substantially, my SiSwati was still pathetic, but her smile grew wider every time we saw one another. The letters, crafts and pictures from my sweet special friend were covering every square inch of the fridge door. Our family continued praying for her over the years. My kids kept asking questions, and I actually knew some of the answers.
Just a couple of weeks ago, my three children had the great pleasure of giving our
special friend big embraces with no restraint. My husband got to shake hands with her father, whom she is now reunited with. Through the chattering, giggles and wide smiles I felt something had come full circle – a melting pot of people whom I love, interacting as if they were old friends. It was deeply meaningful for all of us – tangible proof that we had touched each other’s lives. No longer is there a need for anyone in our family to try to just remember the girl with the bright eyes, her life story is now engrained in ours and ours in hers. And as soon as we get home, you better believe that right beside the picture of the young girl with the timid smile; will be hanging a picture of our WHOLE family smiling wide.
Townsend Travels 