I can't imagine celebrating a birthday without my mom, my dad, or my family. Especially when I was younger, birthdays were always important and always celebrated--grand dinners, lots of laughs, presents, and memories were created. Memories that will always be cherished.
Last month, Adriana celebrated her 13th birthday--the special year of becoming a teenager. Her older sister, Sofia, also lives in the home, and the two sisters are extremely close. Adriana looks up to Sofia--emulates her, learns from her, and appreciates her.
The last Saturday of March was Adriana's big day, and after dinner we brought out her cake. We began singing, and she looked down sadly, almost as if she didn't want anyone to see her face or what she was thinking. As she looked up, a smile, not so genuine, crept across her face. As we finished singing, Adriana thanked everyone, closed her eyes for a few seconds, and blew out her candle. I wondered what she wished for--for her mother to be present? For a certain gift? For family reunification?
Sofia was helping one of the tias pass out cake, and she handed the first piece to her little sister. As she placed the small plate on the table, she leaned down and whispered, barely audible, in her sister's ear, "Happy Birthday, little sister. I love you so much." Before turning around, she kissed Adriana's cheek. A very big, very genuine smile appeared on the new teenager's face.
This moment was so tender, so sweet, so emotional, and neither girl knew anyone was watching. It brought tears to my eyes as I thought about how much love they share, and how Sofia has been forced into a motherly role at such a young age. But, what Sofia and Adriana share is something so special, so raw, so tender.
This is just one, very small moment , but during my two years in Cochabamba, I have witnessed moments between these girls there were so real, so pure, so genuine...so tender.
