[e-mail]

It was not always 11. They all just came, one by one or two by two. Needed a home, her arms wide open. She let in all who God called her to.
First having her own kids, and marring someone with three. Together their were five gifts. The original five, four girls one boy. They were happy, but not finished. The man said their would be ten, she said not with her body. They would have one and the rest would be given.
Then came a little girl, not having a family to call her own. Her grandparents cried as the car drove away. She was small, with hair as orange as a sunset. She was sweet and brought joy to the family. The family was six gifts and they were happy.
The longed for one of their own. She was born with eyes like his and a heart like hers. She connected the two families into one. In her was a piece of each one of the other gifts. Their were seven gifts and they were happy.
Two beautiful girls with skin like milk chocolate were brought in to the family. They brought change with them. They brought new joys, new challenges, and new friendships. Their were nine gifts and they were happy.
They were not done. They needed one more. A little girl no more than two was brought with a bathing suit and a love for cheese. She needed a home, she needed to be loved. It was too hard for the birth mother she could not take care of her. She stayed with them at their house, she stayed with them at her house. Their were ten gifts and they were happy.
She was tired out. She said no more. God said no, you are not done yet. One more do I have for you. Baby…. oh so small only one with little feet and little hands. Her hair was light blond her cheeks big and red, always ready to be kissed. She was the perfect baby. Too many gifts, but the sister of the one before? Baby stayed one night, stayed two nights, stayed three nights, stayed forever.
And she wonders. Eleven seems like such and unfinished number. Will their be more gifts from God.