I love small spaces, tiny places like Disney’s Storybook Land.

Storybook Land is whimsical, fantastical, magical.

It’s everything Disney’s cracked up to be.

Call me a sucker, but here’s the truth. Just plop me in one of Storybook Land’s boats, float me around its winding, narrow waterways built in 1955, and I’m good to go.

As I pass each wonderful world, I’m tempted to jump right over, jump right in to inhabit the small spaces and tiny places.

How wonderful would it be to become acquainted with that cottage? How peaceful would it be to stroll those stones on the way to the mail each day? How enchanting would it be to have a valiant knight in shining armor transport you to the castle on his white-as-snow horse? How quaint would it be to find yourself lost in the village, meandering ’till your soul’s caught right up with the rest of you?

So when our favorite local nursery started carrying all the things needed to create a fairy garden, I was all in. The only problem was that I didn’t have a budget to create my own whimsical, fantastical, and magical fairy garden. So I just kept ooh-ing and ah-ing over the possibility of my own tiny worlds, thinking one day, maybe one day, it’d be possible.

One day, yes one day, on my birthday, my valiant knight in shining armor husband surprised me with a small world of my own.

Do with it as you may, do with it as you might, he said.

So I did.

I decided a fairy garden right in the garden is what I wanted.

So we dug and we planted, we moved and we marked. Arbor nestled here. Little bridge over there. Creeping thyme over here. Creeping thyme over there.

Voila!

A small space, a tiny place.

Right in our garden.

A world to get lost in, find space in, seek rest in.

A world to wonder and to wander, even if but a moment.

A world to call beautiful. A place to call peace.

A small world of our own.

Whimsical.

Magical.

Fantastical.

In the blink of an eye, we’ll be back at Storybook Land. We’ll ride waterways and be transported to Disney’s worlds just as magically as we have every other time.

In the meantime, we’ll enjoy our own small space, our own tiny place.

It doesn’t have a name for now.

But it’s ours.

It’s mine.

My tiny world.

A world like no other.

Mama was washing breakfast dishes. Tiny princess came down the stairs with a Princess Tiana dress in hand. She’d pulled it down, off the hanger in her closet.

“Put it on mom. Put it on!” said tiny princess.

So mama put the dress on her tiny, tiny princess.

White silk fell off her shoulders. It was too big.

White silk dragged on the ground. It was too long.

Mama had an idea. A shiny green paperclip would do. So she tugged that white silk up at the shoulders, gathered it all together in the back, and pushed it right through that shiny green paperclip.

Tiny, tiny princess was ready to play.

“My pretty princess, mom! My pretty princess!” she exclaimed as she ran around the room, white silk trailing behind.

Tiny princess wanted big brother to see her pretty princess dress. So she grabbed ahold of that white silk,  lifted it up, and began down the stairs to the basement. One step, by one step, by one step and another, tiny princess walked down the stairs to find brother, big brother.

“My pretty princess, brother! My pretty princess!” she exclaimed as she ran around the room, white silk trailing behind.

“Wow, so pretty!” said big brother. “You’re so pretty.”

Then tiny princess grabbed ahold of that white silk, lifted it up, and began back up the stairs to find mama. One step, by one step, by one step and another, tiny princess walked up the stairs to find mama.

“My go outside!” said tiny princess as she headed for the door.

So mama turned the lock and opened the door for tiny, tiny princess. Tiny princess ran to the deck rails and looked through to a field of possibility. Birds chirped, frogs croaked, swans swam, and grasses blew in the breeze.

What was next for tiny princess? What in the world would she do?

Just then, tiny princess saw a red net across the deck. She ran as fast as she could. “My catch frogs!” she said. “My catch frogs!” Tiny princess was brave, tiny princess was bold. She was determined to catch frogs so she grabbed ahold of her white silk pretty princess dress and began down the deck stairs in search of some tiny, tiny frogs.

Just then, mama said “Wait! Wait! I’m still wearing my pajamas. Come! We’ll catch frogs after I’m ready.”

So mama picked up her tiny, tiny princess and carried her all the way upstairs.

Tiny princess got up on mama’s great big bed and waited patiently, soaking in the brave, beautiful and kind princess things Princess Sofia does in the kingdom of Enchancia.

Mama got ready for the day. She pulled her long hair into a ponytail, brushed her teeth until they were sparkly white, and put on her green dress with a ruffle on the top. Mama was ready to go anywhere, ready to do anything with miss tiny, tiny princess.

But before she did anything, mama stopped. She looked at her tiny princess on that great big bed and knew it wasn’t time to go frog hunting, not yet anyway. So mama took a deep breath, stood still in the door frame, and soaked in the moment.

Mama saw the beauty, the treasure, the rare gem that was her tiny, tiny princess. There she was – more beautiful than gold, more precious than silver – one shoulder bare, the other adorned with a flower.

Tiny princess. Beautiful. Precious. Set apart for more than mama could imagine.

Mama bottled the moment in her memory, saved it up for all the years she’d walk alongside her tiny, then not-so-tiny princess. For she loved her daughter so.

In the stillness of the moment, mama pondered the love of her Daddy, her Father who calls her beautiful, precious, set apart for more than she could ever imagine.

And she knew what He’d say…

That’s the way I love you, that’s the way I see you.

Beautiful, tiny princess.

Beautiful.

A tear dropped from mama’s eye.

Mama walked slowly to the bed so as to not disturb the peace that was. She brushed tiny princess’ hair out of her eyes and told her quietly it was time to go.

Mama lifted tiny princess off the bed, took her tiny, tiny hand, and together, they walked all the way down the stairs.

Mama knew it was the perfect time to go frog hunting, so she turned the lock and opened the door for tiny princess. Tiny princess ran to the deck rails and looked through to the field of possibility. Birds chirped, frogs croaked, swans swam, and grasses blew in the breeze – the same way they did earlier that morning.

What was next for mama and her tiny princess? What in the world would they do?

Catch frogs, mama thought, watch grasses blow in the breeze, swans grace water with wings, and birds fly free in song. So off they went. Tiny princess grabbed ahold of her white silk pretty princess dress and began down the deck stairs in search of those tiny, tiny frogs. And mama came alongside, red net in one hand, tiny princess’ hand in the other.

Together, they were brave. Together, they were bold. Together, they were beautiful, tiny princesses.

 

It was my first full day in Haiti with Compassion International. Hours into the day, I found myself actively engaged with a group of girls at the far end of the project’s play yard.

With the help of a translator, I uncovered bits and pieces about the girls. They were all around my son and daughter’s age – eight, nine, ten and eleven-years-old. I was intrigued by their personalities and way of being with one another, and kept thinking how cool it would be if my daughter was there, engaging with the girls, just like me.

Another woman from our group approached and began conversing with the girls, so I decided it was a good opportunity to engage the teenage girls I saw yards away.

The day passed. We spent the rest of the morning with mamas and babies enrolled in Compassion’s Child Survival Program, had lunch with project staff, visited families’ homes, and returned to the project at the end of the day.

After we spent a little more time in the classrooms and play yard, after we used the restroom one last time before we had to leave, I met the boy who stole my heart.

I really didn’t want to say good-bye, but I was on my way back to the van. It was time to go.

Most of my fellow travelers were already on the van. I was one of the last to load.

Just feet before the van, a boy approached. He came alongside me, hung close, tight to my body. I’m still not sure if I’ve ever had anyone step in tandem with me the way that boy did. The only way I can describe it is that his little body was so tight, right alongside me, that we became one walking unit in that moment.

God helped me recognize, immediately, this boy’s strong presence.

I put my arm around his shoulders as we walked. “Hi buddy,” I said quietly, lovingly.

He kept close, never out of step. He snuggled in a bit closer.

And then he looked up at me, as we were walking even slower now, and ever so gently but assuredly said “I want you to be my mommy.”

This was the first child that had spoken a word of English to me all day, and these were the words I was going to hear?

My heart broke. I began crying immediately. “Oh buddy,” I said, as I gave him the biggest, most endearing mama bear hug I could muster.

The world around me disappeared. We were three, maybe five feet from the van at this point, and I’m sure there were an abundance of kids and adults wondering why I was crying and hugging this boy. I’m certain they had no idea what he’d just told me.

I loosened my embrace because we were now even closer to the van. He looked down and pointed to one of two bracelets I had on my wrist, one purple, one cream. (Oddly enough, I’d received those bracelets as gifts of appreciation from Haitians in the market 16+ months ago after I’d presented them with gifts I brought from home.) I couldn’t be his mommy, but I knew as soon as he looked at that purple bracelet that I wanted to give it to him to let him know how much he was loved. A translator was present and helped with the exchange. For a few seconds, all was right with the world. I had a bracelet and the boy had a bracelet. We’d be tied together, in our hearts, and the bracelets would be a tangible reminder. But a little girl approached and saw I had another bracelet to give, so I obliged, even though it meant I’d no longer have a bracelet to keep my heart tangibly tied to this sweet boy.

Still crying, I gave him one last hug, waved good-bye, and got on the van. Tears continued to stream as I made my way to the back of the van, past most of my fellow travelers. I explained to a couple who’d asked, he said “I want you to be my mommy.”

How was I supposed to sit in this van, act like I’d just heard any ‘ol words, and move right on out?

Praise. The. Lord. He wasn’t about to let my time with this boy end, even though all other indications said it was a done deal.

Thankfully, our departure was delayed for one reason or another. I didn’t even care because all my mind could think of was the boy. Kids were swarming around just outside of our van. I looked to my right, and there he was. I caught him just as he was looking down, fiddling with his bracelet. “I’ve got to get a picture of this boy,” I told those around me as I stood up immediately and captured not one, but two pictures. I felt blessed to have, at the very least, seen him again and captured these photos to remember him by.

If I remember correctly, the van moved, turned in the direction of the gates where we’d depart. I thought I’d seen the last of the boy. I was sad, but grateful too, that God had given me the opportunity to see him from afar one more time.

But God knew otherwise. The van stopped. There was another delay.

Some moments passed, and then I noticed my boy coming alongside our van. He was looking up, into the windows, and he was now on the side of the van where I was sitting. When he came to the window of the people sitting in front of me, I noticed he was looking at them and pointing to his bracelet. I knew right away, he was looking for me.

“He’s looking for me!” I exclaimed as quietly and as calmly as I could without seeming like a freak to my fellow travelers close by.

I knocked on the window, loud enough so he could hear and notice I was there in the back row. I waved, put my hand on my heart, pointed to his bracelet, and then pointed to my wrist where the bracelet had once been. He looked at me with his big brown eyes and smiled.

We’d found each other, once again.

I began crying, once again.

I opened one hand and put it up flat against the window. He put his hand up too. One panel of glass separated us.

It was clear the bus was about to move towards the gates.

I blew him a kiss. He blew me one, too. I blew another. He blew another.

And as we drove off, I looked back and noticed. He was wearing navy blue Converse, untied. He walked quietly by himself as we drove away, fiddling with his bracelet, yet again.

Call me a blubbery mess. Call me whatever.

In the days following, I wasn’t sure what to do with this experience. In fact, nine days later, I’m still not sure why I met that boy, why he was the only child I engaged with that day that spoke any word of English, or why he felt compelled to say “I want you to be my mommy.”

I’d give anything to know if that little boy has a mommy. I’d give anything for the opportunity to go back and take a Compassion staff and translator with me, visit his home, and know more. If he had a mommy, I’d love on her and tell her how awesome she is and how she’s raising her son with a beautiful heart. I’d tell him what a great mommy he has and how she loves him with all her heart. And if he didn’t have a mommy? Well, I don’t know what I’d do. But reality is, I’ll never get the opportunity to do any of that.

Why is it that my Heavenly Father gave me this gift, this boy to love for just a few moments? I don’t know.

The Lord gives, the Lord takes away. Blessed be His name, is all I can say.

Perhaps I’ll never know why I met this boy, why he wanted me to be his mommy. Perhaps someday the good Lord will make it clear. For now, I trust, there was a reason.

Five days after meeting the boy, I arrived back home. Photographs of my journey flashed on our television screen as I recounted my days in Haiti with my husband and two oldest children.

And then, the Lord gave me eyes to see what I needed to see in a photograph I hadn’t remembered taking earlier that morning in the play yard.

The boy.

There he was!

I’m not 100% sure because the first two photos I took of the boy were from the side, and this photo was straight on. But my heart knows, my heart feels confident. The Lord gives me eyes to see what He wants me to see, because He’s awesome like that.

That boy in the middle of all those girls?

It’s him.

I recognize his face, he looks familiar. He looks exactly like the boy who told me “I want you to be my mommy.” He looks exactly like the boy who blew me kisses when I was still crying in the van. He looks exactly like the boy who wore navy blue Converse, untied.

And if it’s truly him as my heart thinks it is?

Then God has spoken.

I’m here, orchestrating every bit of your life, whether you know it or not.

I chose you before you chose Me.

You are loved.

Now go love.

Amy

*This is part of a month-long series about my journey to Haiti. Click here to read all the posts in the series.

Dear Stepsister,

We made a reservation for four at Disney’s Grand Floridian Resort, 1900 Park Fare. We’d been there the year prior for the Supercalifragilistic Breakfast and it was wonderful, so we came back, this time for Cinderella’s Happily Ever After Dinner.

We were very excited to dine and meet Cinderella, Prince Charming, Cinderella’s Evil Stepmother, and the three Stepsisters, one of them you! Our reservation was late and the dining room was running behind, so we were among the last to be seated for the evening.

Shortly after we were seated, a dad, mom, and young preschool-aged child arrived and sat at the table next to us. I glanced at their table and made some quick observations when I overheard the parents engaging with the wait staff: 1) The child had very short, blonde curly hair and was wearing a blue shirt. 2) The child had some notable facial pigments or breakouts. 3) The parents were talking to the wait staff about their child’s food allergies.

As dinner progressed, Cinderella came to our table for a visit, as did the Evil Stepmother and Prince Charming. Next came the Stepsisters, one by one. You were the one in pink. ALL three Stepsisters were in full character, but you were really playing it up! When you came to our table, you embodied the Stepsister character completely. Note your “smile” for the picture with my children, and you were even crabby and feisty as you interacted with them at the table! Since we were among the last in the dining room, we were the recipients of some extra special treatment – you and two other characters engaged in dialogue with our children at our table, completely in character! It was definitely an intimate and “magical” Disney experience.

After you engaged with our children, you proceeded to the table next to us where the mom, dad and young child were seated. Up until this time, I had thought the child was a boy, but as you approached their table and I looked closer, I realized the child was a girl. She had put on a crown and was wearing a blue Cinderella t-shirt.

The little girl LOVED you and was clearly intrigued by your character. What caught my attention was that she kept giving you hugs, and she wouldn’t stop. It was as if this little girl was in desperate need of hugs, hugs, and more hugs. They weren’t just quick one-stop hugs you’d give any Disney character. They were long embraces, embraces that signaled I need your presence and comfort right now, Stepsister. I need more of that, Stepsister. You obliged and hugged her sweetly, as many times as she needed.

After a while, you were called away from the little girl’s table, as there were still a few other families who had not met you yet. We continued to eat our meal, as did the little girl and her parents next to us.

You and and the other characters wrapped up your time with the other families in the dining room, and by then, the room was REALLY clearing.

Then, I looked up and realized you were on your way to visit the little girl at the table next to us – again.

While you were still Stepsister, I could tell the little girl had captured your heart and there was something about the way you approached that signaled to me you had stepped out of character a bit. The little girl, of course, welcomed you with a huge smile and open arms, ready for more HUGS. You, of course, obliged.

You lingered at their table. And it was beautiful. The little girl I once thought was a boy, who had allergies and notable breakouts or pigments on her face, was being specially noted, cared for, and loved. You could have remained in full Stepsister character, been completely rude and passed right by after a first brief meeting. But no, you turned your interaction with this little girl into an art form, adapting and crafting your response so that child’s unique needs were met.

It was the spring of 2011. I had been feeling a call to write on and off since the spring of 2003. And it was another full year beyond our family’s encounter with you that I finally decided to start a blog.

But I want you to know – I’m certain I was supposed to meet you in that dining room that particular day, at that particular time. I’m certain I was supposed to see you interact with that little girl. I’m certain God knew I would be moved by your response to her. And I’m certain He wanted to use you and that little girl to call my attention to stories that needed to be told.

This story, your story, was one of a few that led me to believe that God had given me eyes to see stories unfold, stories that might otherwise go untold.

Today, I’m telling your story. A woman who gave it all – to a little girl who needed it all. One night, in a Disney dining room.

It’s not rocket science and it’s not mind-blowing headline news, but it’s precious, it’s meaningful, it’s a story that should be told.

So thank you – for your hugs, your character, your warmth and sincerity for a little girl, and for your inspiration,

Amy

*If you’d like to read more from my #31Days Letters to the Unthanked series, click here for the landing page where all the letters are listed and linked!

Dear Fairy Godmother,

It was a wonderful week. It was truly amazing.

We’d been on Disney vacations several times before. But this one was special. We brought both of our children to Walt Disney World for the first time, and dedicated the entire seven-day vacation to Disney.

After a long, late-night flight, our family unloaded at the Disney value resort Pop Century. We woke up the next morning, ate the first of many meals from our dining plan, and got right to it. Magic Kingdom, Epcot, Hollywood Studios and Animal Kingdom were our stomping grounds for six days, and just as we expected, all four of us loved it!

It was truly a vacation of a lifetime. No doubt – many more Disney vacations were in our future!

But there’s something you need to know, Fairy Godmother.

While I was enjoying the most spectacular week away at Walt Disney World with my husband and children, and most definitely wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else, I did find my mind wandering to another place.

Our whole family had spent the past 5 1/2 years battling a war against my sister’s addiction and mental illness, and then she found out she was pregnant. A few months into her pregnancy, she was ordered to a lock-down facility where she stayed about six weeks. While she was at that facility, doctors found a significant mass (CCAM) in the baby’s lung. A month prior to our visit to Disney, my sister had been transferred to a different facility where she was ordered to stay until she delivered the baby. The new facility was closer to the perinatal specialists and surgeons so the baby’s health could be monitored every week. Everything was in upheaval, and everyone was stressed out to the max. There were so many worries, and we didn’t even know if the baby was going to survive.

So you see, Fairy Godmother, I was a Cinderella-of-sorts that week. I was worn down, tattered all up inside. Nothing was certain, and miracles seemed near impossible.

I’d been successful at temporarily escaping reality that week at Disney, so I didn’t even realize I could use you until I found you that day at Magic Kingdom.

Anyone who frequents Disney regularly knows Fairy Godmother is a rare sight, but we found you hidden behind the castle. We were the first to discover you, so we took the opportunity to greet you before the crowd grew large. My husband knows me well, and knew right away you were EXACTLY the character I needed to meet and greet. So I leaned in close and he snapped the shot.

If you look at my eyes, Fairy Godmother, you’ll see I was almost in tears as I stood next to you, hidden behind that castle.

I know you’re not really magical, but Disney’s good at making days magical, so I accepted your presence for what it was. A sweet gift, a promise that miracles are possible.

While I couldn’t ask you to wave your wand and make it all go away, you brought me joy and a sense of peace. And in that moment, I knew it was all going to be alright.

May God continue to work through you to grace thousands with peace and the promise of hope in tattered times,

Amy

*If you’d like to read more from my #31Days Letters to the Unthanked series, click here for the landing page where all the letters are listed and linked!