" Hello my daughter, hello my son."

These were the first words we heard as we walked into their small apartment. He is 73, she is 65. They have been in America for 8 months after fleeing Iraq and spending five years in Jordan at a refugee camp. We will never know the depth of tragedy their lives have seen.

After we were greeted with those most endearing words, we were asked to sit down and in front of us was placed lemon poppyseed bread and orange juice. We told them about our lives through a translator and they listened with great interest. When it was their turn to share, he first repeated over and over how thankful they were to America for allowing them to live here. How he wanted to thank us as representatives for America. I felt small and humbled to be considered a representative for America:)
He didn't tell much about life in Iraq, only that they have seen much trouble in their lives. That they lived right across the street from each other growing up, never had children and hope that our lives will be interwoven as family. That they hope they will be like an extra set of grandparents to Sam and Amelia. " My son and my daughter, we are so thankful for you. We do not want to be a burden to you."

We had to hurry and leave as they were missing part of their English class, but oh do we look forward to meeting again. We left their little home with tears in our eyes and with two children wildly high from the poppyseed cake and Kit Kat Bars they were offered and readily inhaled. Seriously, they were going nutso. Happy nutso though, which was okay.

This was our first experience as family mentors with the International Rescue Committee . I thank the Lord for this wonderfully unique but so specific to our hearts (does that make sense?) opportunity that He has given us. Jen