Adar Ali is from Somalia. Her daughter, Safio, is seven years old and looks about four. She has never walked, and until their arrival in America this fall, moved only in her mother's arms.  She does not talk, has no use of her limbs, but can see and hear and respond in her own unique way. They spent three years in a camp in Uganda before moving into their small, steamy apartment on 3900 S. Same valley as me.

I was blessed to meet them in November, and since then have spent at least two hours every week in their company. Things learned thus yet as a result: 

how to make African macaroni with sliced bananas on top and eat it with my hands

UTA bus route # 39

how to die your nails with henna

the sounds Safio makes when she's communicating happy

that it's hard to explain what "though" means

a wheelchair, a stroller, two car seats, and two adults, do not in fact fit inside a mini cooper

all cultures sing to children

sometimes food poisoning is worth it

this text this morning:

"Hi brinn how are you today how is your family kiss me your daughter by my best friend"

I don't know what they've seen or known, or what the future looks like in their heads. But I am grateful to know them, and grateful they are safe and healthy and have so many people here helping them make it in this new world.

Also. Some shots my dad just sent taken in October. So sunny. No snow. Soon enough we will sit on grass and wear no coats again.