.Rich.

I have cut and pasted this from a facebook note that I wrote last week while in Ethiopia. He was there. (To start at the beginning read here.)

I was told that he had asked about me every time our guide was on that street. As our van bumped along the familar road I wasn't sure if I would find him, and I wasn't sure if my heart could take not finding him.

We exited the van, and my eyes scanned every brown face there. A boy ran up to me excitedly, and I recognized him from our last trip. He motioned for me to wait. Then moments later there he was - in front of me - just as I had dreamed and prayed over and over. His smile was shy but excited- as was mine.

I've thought of you and prayed for you everyday. I told him.

He grinned and grabbed my hand and fingered the beaded bracelet wrapped around my wrist. The one he had gifted me with two months before. Our language barrier was great, but we communicated a thousand words with our eyes until in broken English - in that beautiful melodic lilt that was burned into my memory- he spoke to me.

My mother died. He told me as if he knew I had been searching for his story.

I am so sorry. I whispered.

It is alright. He smiled as his brown eyes grew soft.

Because you are my mother.

Then he wrapped his arms around me, and on that dusty street in Addis our worlds once again collided and my world was righted and even seemed to stop for a moment. I had one of my brown eyed boys snug against my chest and the other with his arms around me. It was more than I had ever dared hope, dream, or pray.

His name is Habtamu (Hob-tom-oo), and in English it is translated Rich. Tomorrow at 11:30 our guide, Job, the one who had been repeatedly asked about me by Habtamu, arranged for us to pick my boy up and take him to lunch. At lunch I will be able to give him the care package that I brought for him. I am still unsure as to why God has laid Habtamu on my heart, and why there is such a connection between us. I know it is of God, though, and I am eagerly waiting the end of this story.

We got a glimmer of hope about adopting him today. Do I dare hope? No matter the outcome I feel like one of the richest women in the world tonight. Before we left his street, we embraced once more.

I love you. He whispered to me.

My throat grew hot and thick with the lump that I tried to speak around.

And I love you. I sobbed. I squeezed his hand before walking away promising him that I would be back tomorrow. And if tomorrow is all we ever have, I will exclaim my thanks to God, because truly He has given me riches beyond anything this world could ever dare to offer. So until tomorrow....I give thanks for today.