Letter to Kevin
Kevin is my 14-year old godson who lives in Nicaragua.
I can still feel your tight embrace around my neck. You wouldn't let go. Your salty tears on my blouse from before I took off for the airport have barely dried up. Yet I already miss you tremendously. On the night of our farewell, I kept cool and tried to calm you down and make you feel better. I said "no te preocupes. Before you know it, I will be back to see you. And I'll keep you in my heart until then".
Then, five days later came my reaction. Like an avalanche of emotions that had built up inside me. My husband was the first to receive a phone call at work where all he could hear was me sobbing uncontrollably. "It's Kevin. I cannot forget that scene". And later in the evening, over a pizza and a berry mojito with my girlfriends came the second wave. More tears. More sadness for not living closer to you.
What is a small scholarship? A pair of shoes once in a while - and a Christmas and Birthday gift? Nothing compared to what you give me in return. Your contagious smile, your messages, your curiosity, your interest in our family - even your phone calls at 4 am because the concept of time difference so far from your world in - and around - Granada, Nicaragua.
If I could, I would show you the world. I would buy your family a home. But I can't. It's all in your hands. Keep going. Keep studying. Keep dreaming. That way, what seems unobtainable will become obtainable one day. Like a passport. The opportunity to see the world from an airplane - and a secure future for you and your family.
Tengo fe en ti.
Tu Madrina Lise