Secret

I know I had quite a strict no-pictures/no-names policy going on in this little corner of internet on which I jot my thoughts, but sometimes there is a sweet littl'un who changes that.

Her name is Secret.

I met her three weeks ago at a village ministry I was semi-participating in (really I was just watching and holding the hands of a small army of kids), when she plopped on my lap as I sat in a dust cloud and wrapped her arms around me. She was charming--absolutely expressionless, no smiles, no frowns, no speaking, but so very sweet.

This Friday, I was surprised when, as I handed out crayons one by one, a little girl walked up behind me and held on to my hips. As I walked, she kept following, almost tripping on my feet as I went. When I finished handing out stubby sticks of bright color, I sat down and pulled her on to my lap. I traced her hand on paper and drew a string of hearts. She was so unresponsive that I thought she wanted to go off on her own. I stood her up and stood behind her, but she didn't want to leave: she wanted to be held. I don't know why this emotionless, beautiful little girl craves hugs, but she does. She wrapped her arms around my neck, her feet around my waist, laid her head on my shoulder and did not let go until I had to go back home. I carried her around as I admired all the other girls' hand drawings; I had to switch hips as some others walked me to the well and pumped water for me to [pretend to] drink; she held on as other girls tickled my sides and called my name (which comes out "Balbla").

That's Secret. She has a sister named Love. She's so easy to hug. She's so precious, friends; I can say it no other way.