“Auntie Akofa is here! Auntie Akofa is here!”
These days, that’s how I’m welcomed whenever I go to my friend’s E.’s place. The voices belong to her 3 ½ year old son and her 2 year old daughter, excitedly announcing the arrival of a familiar face; a family friend.
Sometimes, my arrival is too early in the morning, that is on bread collection days, and though the little ones are awake, it seems they would rather go back to bed and skip school. Or perhaps, I got there at hungry moments when they were patiently waiting for breakfast... so no happy welcome for “Auntie Akofa,” haha!
It’s a privilege and an honour that my friendship with E. has spilled over to her marriage and now, to her children. Almost every time I visit long enough to sit down for a chat, her son, Ad., eagerly searches my bag for my cell phone –not that it’s fancy, by the way- or for something equally ‘cool’ enough for him to play with. Ad. is usually delighted if he’s able to pour out all the contents of my bag if he manages to escape the watchful eyes of his mother and I, who are catching up on life’s happenings and God’s goodness on our lives.
It wasn’t until recently that her daughter, Ay. gave up her suspicions of me and embraced me with her shy smile and cautious handshake. Or should I say Ay. had been gingerly checking me out all throughout her 2 years of life? Now she delights in pointing out her big brother’s impish ways, “Auntie Akofa! Look at Ad.!” Or she would call out simply, “Auntie Akofa! Look at…!” I’d turn towards the direction of the little pointed finger and true to the report, Ad. is gleefully indulging in some mischief.
In early October, their little brother arrived and I had the privilege of keeping them with me over the weekend. It was challenging to keep them entertained and occupied, so that I could tackle some 'adult' task. For some reason they didn’t like the kid music video I had, neither did they seem to like one of my favourite cartoons, “The Lion King.”
However, whenever they were allowed to, they got busy on my mom’s exercise bicycle often fighting over who to ride it- a quarrel I refused to stop. I figured they would solve their toddler quarrels on their own by way of crying, lol!
Ad. and Ay. were pretty excited about being able to freely run around and play in front of our house. Lots of space to freely roam and get dirty too!
One night, we 3 all went for a walk and they told me stories most of which I didn’t really get but encouraged their storytelling nonetheless with my, “I see! Oooh! Hmmmm! Is that so?’ etc. While I’ve forgotten their stories, the memory of slowly walking and talking together is precious to me. I hope to do this with my children someday.
And there was one night, we shared a bedtime prayer. Although what Ad. said was mostly unintelligible, I know God heard his prayer. I was proud of him and more importantly of his mother’s effort in teaching and modeling prayer to her children.
I cannot wait to get to know their little brother as he grows up to be a sweet toddler, like Ad. and Ay are now.
Grateful for friendships,
Lady Akofa.
These days, that’s how I’m welcomed whenever I go to my friend’s E.’s place. The voices belong to her 3 ½ year old son and her 2 year old daughter, excitedly announcing the arrival of a familiar face; a family friend.
Sometimes, my arrival is too early in the morning, that is on bread collection days, and though the little ones are awake, it seems they would rather go back to bed and skip school. Or perhaps, I got there at hungry moments when they were patiently waiting for breakfast... so no happy welcome for “Auntie Akofa,” haha!
It’s a privilege and an honour that my friendship with E. has spilled over to her marriage and now, to her children. Almost every time I visit long enough to sit down for a chat, her son, Ad., eagerly searches my bag for my cell phone –not that it’s fancy, by the way- or for something equally ‘cool’ enough for him to play with. Ad. is usually delighted if he’s able to pour out all the contents of my bag if he manages to escape the watchful eyes of his mother and I, who are catching up on life’s happenings and God’s goodness on our lives.
It wasn’t until recently that her daughter, Ay. gave up her suspicions of me and embraced me with her shy smile and cautious handshake. Or should I say Ay. had been gingerly checking me out all throughout her 2 years of life? Now she delights in pointing out her big brother’s impish ways, “Auntie Akofa! Look at Ad.!” Or she would call out simply, “Auntie Akofa! Look at…!” I’d turn towards the direction of the little pointed finger and true to the report, Ad. is gleefully indulging in some mischief.
In early October, their little brother arrived and I had the privilege of keeping them with me over the weekend. It was challenging to keep them entertained and occupied, so that I could tackle some 'adult' task. For some reason they didn’t like the kid music video I had, neither did they seem to like one of my favourite cartoons, “The Lion King.”
However, whenever they were allowed to, they got busy on my mom’s exercise bicycle often fighting over who to ride it- a quarrel I refused to stop. I figured they would solve their toddler quarrels on their own by way of crying, lol!
Ad. and Ay. were pretty excited about being able to freely run around and play in front of our house. Lots of space to freely roam and get dirty too!
One night, we 3 all went for a walk and they told me stories most of which I didn’t really get but encouraged their storytelling nonetheless with my, “I see! Oooh! Hmmmm! Is that so?’ etc. While I’ve forgotten their stories, the memory of slowly walking and talking together is precious to me. I hope to do this with my children someday.
And there was one night, we shared a bedtime prayer. Although what Ad. said was mostly unintelligible, I know God heard his prayer. I was proud of him and more importantly of his mother’s effort in teaching and modeling prayer to her children.
I cannot wait to get to know their little brother as he grows up to be a sweet toddler, like Ad. and Ay are now.
Grateful for friendships,
Lady Akofa.
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