Rigut Menfass Konjo

I've said that one of the main reasons I got started blogging was that J and I discovered how great it was to keep up with some of the kids we knew in Africa via their family's blogs. There is one such little boy who we have been lucky to be able to to see, along with his sister, smiling and soaking in the love of his adoptive family, a family we were lucky enough to meet and spend time with when they first came to meet him.
When we knew him, his nickname meant "mountain" because he was so strong. He was all muscle, great at sports. Especially soccer. When we took the kids on field trips, he wanted to be the first to try everything. He was fearless. He had a huge, wide smile and was just a really warm, fun, amazing kid. It was really cool for us to have been able spend so much time with his new mom and brother, and to see him and his sister go home with a family that fit them so well and were such wonderful, loving people.
I'm especially glad for that now, because that little boy, strong as a mountain, died last night after a long battle with cancer. Some things are just not fair. But he had family to cheer him on and help him fight as long as he could, and to be with him and comfort him when he couldn't anymore, and he passed away loved and cared for and not alone.
There is nothing right, ever, about the death of a child. But there is something to celebrate about the love of a family, and the light of a life that gave so many smiles to so many others even in such a short time. If you pray, send one out for him, would you? And for his family, whose heartbreak I can't even imagine. And whether you do or not, find a child in your life, and hug them a little closer.