The other night, Danielle and Krispin brought over the Somali girls to make Christmas cookies. You know, sugar cookies that you roll out, cut into shapes, bake and then lavishly decorate. Sound familiar?
Of course it does to you. But this was the girls' very first Christmas cookie experience.
I think they had fun. Habiba, the youngest, burst into my house, scattered my pets and created a whirlwind of energy (which only increased as her sugar levels rose--she ate more cookies than she helped make).
Ndifa, the middle child, was seriously interested in all aspects of cookie making, from rolling out the chilled dough (this how we make chapati!) to decorating the cookies with her own unique flair. She wants to be an artist when she grows up.
Halima, who will turn 15 next month, was your typical teenager--half-heartedly slapping together a cookie or two, then planting herself in front of the computer and chatting on MySpace for the rest of the evening. I signed her up on Facebook and added her as a friend, but I'm not sure how much computer access Halima has at home.
Speaking of their home, Majuma, their mom, struggles to hold down a job, which translates into difficulty in paying the rent, utilities, buying food, etc. The girls don't talk about it much, but Danielle says they carry the burden of it silently. There's even been talk of their family having to move in with relatives--maybe even with Danielle and Krispin!
We didn't talk about Jesus directily last night, trying to connect the cookie-making extravaganza with the Son of God's birthday. I think that would have confused the girls (sometimes it confuses me). My prayer is that they felt His presence; His kindness and love as we rolled and cut and baked and iced our sugary confections.
And that maybe they'll even think about His goodness with every bite of cookie they take in the uncertain days to come.
That is, if they didn't devour them all in the car on the way home . . .