Abir

Abir is Ron and Laurie's Moroccan foster daughter. Born with all her limbs scrunched up into a ball, she was left at an orphanage in Meknes soon after birth. Almost all Moroccan orphan girls are adopted quickly mostly to be grown into servants or prostitutes - a fact that turns my stomach upside down. Even if adopted for good reasons, orphans here can never have a last name. In a country that is based on a "Who's your daddy?" hierarchy, there is little hope for an orphan to ever advance in society. There is no respect for the "self-made man" here because no matter how high the ladder people climb, they will always, always be viewed as the person they were at birth.

A mixed blessing in disguise, her handicap prevented her from being adopted. Being one of the only girls, however, she was to be put in a room of either older boys or babies a year-and-a-half ago. Laurie (my sister-in-law) could take it no more and stepped in upon the request of the orphanage, taking Abir home and making her part of the family. At age five, Abir had undergone a surgery or two, was hardly walking, and had only been fed milk from a bottle.

Today Abir walks with a severe limp - but she can get around very well. As she likes to say when she's going as quickly as she can, "I'm fasting!" When she falls - which is often since she is precariously balanced - she says cheerfully, "Sorry, me!" Through a tremendous amount of coaxing, she has learned to eat and swallow food. Add on to that two new languages (French and English), and you can see that she's had a full year! We kept Abir for three weeks this August while Ron and family were out of the country. She is a delightful (though loud) little person - the personification of spunk, joy in life and laughter. It's like she keeps rediscovering the pure wonder of life and everything in it for the very first time - every time!

Abir's simple presence in Ron and Laurie's home gives people they know a powerful example of God's love and mercy.