Anastasia came to Christmas dinner. Anastasia, a royal name worn most regally by this beautiful five-year-old child. She wore her Barbie jewelry proudly and accepted all compliments with ease. She came to this home of strangers with her mother and brother, and sat politely while chatting with the hosts.

Her mother said the blessing before the meal, a prayer that I, a visitor from the North, in my comfortable, middle class, white life, would never have been able to offer as effortlessly as she.
A prayer of gratitude and hope from a woman twice homeless in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, who now was grateful to live in a Salvation Army shelter with her daughter, while her teenage son lived nearby in a shelter for boys. A prayer of Grace, that was pure grace, and a blessing to hear.

I watched the child and thought of my grandson the same age as she. He also has more than his share of difficulties not of his own making, and I spend much time worrying about the toll they will
take on his life. To see her totally engaged in the happiness of being with her family, even if just for a meal, reminded me that children, especially children who know that they are loved, can be strong and accepting.

When it was time to leave, Anastasia gave a hug and a thank-you to my daughter, son-in-law, and to me. Then she asked her mother if they were walking back 'home.' She was happily surprised to hear that they were being driven.

A ride in a car was a gift, not an expectation, and she was pleased.

It was a good and special day when Anastasia came to Christmas dinner.