Dear Elizabeth,
You, my girl. YOU. Seven years ago today, you came tumbling into the world, born to your beautiful Congo mama. Honestly, I have not an inkling what I was doing seven years ago as you were welcomed into her loving arms, but I can assure you- I had no idea what was to come. What March 4th would come to represent to me. How much more my heart would learn to love. I had no clue that a brown eyed, brown skinned little Congolese girl would one day come into our lives, absolutely wrecking our entire family for the better.
Elizabeth, it’s been a big year for you. You wrapped up kindergarten and confidently launched into first grade. You danced in your first recital (and absolutely slayed). You conquered your fears and learned to swim. You became quite the little reader. And you continued to make friends every single place you went.
But as friends go, nothing competes with the relationship you have with your sister. I truly have never witnessed anything like the friendship you two have. It’s beyond precious. I liken it to a twin relationship. When the two of you are together, you are inseparable; when one of you is missing, the other half feels utterly lost. I could just weep thinking about it.
You really are a people magnet, Elizabeth. You have the kindest, most compassionate and loving heart. You care deeply for the oppressed and are often the very first to notice if someone is hurting. Your big heart for others sometimes translates to even bigger feelings and emotions, but don’t you change a thing, baby girl. I’d choose a soft heart and occasional tears ANY DAY over indifference. God’s going to use your tender heart and compassion to do mighty things. He already is.
You love to dance. We’re talking ALL THE DAY LONG. You’re completely obsessed with Full House and can be found swooning over Uncle Jesse. Your favorite food is steak. Your favorite series of books is Judy Moody. You have a love affair with sequins- the more the better. And your favorite color is turquoise. Specifically, Tiffany blue. I cannot even.
Speaking of which. About six months ago, you kindly informed us that you had started to save your money for a car. A convertible. Specifically, a turquoise convertible. And even MORE specifically, a Beverly Hills Limited Edition Tiffany blue Bentley convertible.
You have $99 in your save jar so far. Which, for a seven year old, is a small fortune.
Keep dreaming big, sweet girl. Watching you bloom and grow is one of the greatest joys of my life, and I cannot believe that I have the privilege of hearing you call me “mom.” May your heart stay tender and your prayers remain bold. And may you always remember that your great, big, unconventional, stitched-together-by-adoption family that spans from the DRC to the USA loves you more than you could ever know. Ever. Ever. Ever.
Happy seventh birthday, my little Elizabethy.