There’s something about that first glimpse… watching your child see the ocean for the first time. It’s unforgettable. I don’t remember the first time I saw the ocean. I’ve been a “beach baby” forever. We moved to Bermuda when I was a tiny tot, then Monterrey, then San Diego, and now we’re here, happily residing in VA Beach. It’s always just a short drive to the sand and the sea.
I love the ocean. It’s a mix of awesome, terrifying, beautiful, mysterious, powerful, and thrilling. The colors, the waves, the light. Whether I’m squinting at it from my towel on the hot sand or peering through the tiny window of an airplane at the largest expanse of blue ever I feel the same sense of peace.
Mareto had look of awe and wonder and tears filled my eyes when I watched it. Arsema’s face reflected the same expression when she first saw it yesterday. Amazed and a bit overwhelmed. My heart wanted to burst with love and gratitude. Watching them fall in love with the waters we crossed to bring them home was and is a gift.
And I often sit on the sand, looking as far into the horizon as I possibly can, knowing that on the other side is that place we love so much. The only thing between us and our Africa is these waters. So little and yet so much. One day I’ll cross over again but today I am content to sit on the edge with my little people playing happily in the sand. All the while thanking God that they are beach babies, too.