What follows is an excerpt from a blog post we recommend you read. It’ll move you.

We sampled the post selectively. There’s emotional stuff in between the samples. Promise.

I met an orphan today.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget her face.

. . .

I sat down on a bench and she scooted towards me. “What is your name?”

In perfect English, “My name is Susan. I am 12.”

She looked at me. I mean, really, looked into my eyes with a question in hers and then she blurted out, “Can I touch your hair?”

. . .

She tried braiding my hair and after a few minutes she gave up saying, “I think something is wrong with your hair. I can’t braid it.” Oh Susan, you are a wise one.

. . .

Again, her eyes found mine and she questioned, “Can I touch your skin? It is so white.”

This time I could only nod as she gently touched my arms and then my legs peeking out from my cropped pants.

“You are the first white woman I have touched,” she said in an almost hushed voice.

Read all of Kristen Welch’s post ^[3] at We Are THAT Family.