The Miracle that is Sarita

I really should be writing about our recent trip to Beirut, Spain, Andorra, and Damascus but I am experiencing something far more pressing--Sarita is leaving.

Sigh.

Breathe.

Ehem.

Resume.

Her ensuing absence is the reason for our quick excursion because I trust no one other than her with all of my children. It was our last hurrah.

Sarita has been a gem for our family. She is, arguably, my bestest friend. After spending almost 3 years of my life with her every single day how could she not? She has seen me on my good days, and on my bad. And somehow, she still loves me. That's unconditional love right there. Amazing.

When Sarita arrived at our home in Nepal she sat hunched over and barely spoke a word. She only arrived in Kathmandu weeks before after working in Kuwait for 5 years. She was on her vacation (only offered to maids in the ME every two years). She was too far from her village, so she stayed with her sister until it was time for her to return to Kuwait. Her sister wanted her to live closer and had heard of an American family looking for a nanny. Hence the reason why she sat on my couch that day.

As I looked at Sarita I wondered, could I handle having someone who doesn't speak a lick of English in my home? Could I handle staring at that horribly long hair (it was down to her butt, and she had no intentions of cutting it)? Could she handle our Type A personality family with her soft spoken nature? It was a gamble--a big one--but I was going to take a chance.

For months, she said nothing. She simply wanted to play with my children and took a special fondness to Asa. She spent every chance she could walking with him and strolling him around outside. I knew she had a good heart, but I wondered if we would ever be able to communicate.

Over time, after bits and pieces of her broken English, I find out she worked for a polygamist family in Kuwait, who had 10 children. She cared for the mother (a 400 pound woman who required a daily rub down on her body because of the many boils on her skin) and an ailing baby. She wore an abaya the entire time and was never really allowed out of the home. Strangely, to this day, she speaks fondly of the experience and smiles when talking about the baby she helped nurture. Her ability to see silver linings is amazing.

My love for Sarita grew as I began to understand her heart. She has an incredible calmness about her and is probably one of the most emotionally stable people I know. Her ability to love anyone is undoubtedly her greatest quality. In seeing this, I started to believe that she was meant for greater things. With that kind of patience and love, anything is possible.

We were determined to bring Sarita to Qatar. It wasn't easy, but by that point she was my rock. She was also my soundboard and I respected her thoughts and opinions. She also worked very hard and was fluent in English. She had the desire to learn and could say just about anything she wanted.

I started seeing a Sarita that had more potential and more abilities than the average nanny. I knew she was destined to be more than what she was. Throughout the months she lived in Doha, she began asking us about our church. I didn't want to push anything and therefore, was hands off. It wasn't until she asked about the BofM that I realized I wasn't playing a role in anything, she was going to do what she wanted. Every night she wanted to discuss philosophical things. She started asking so many questions and all we could do is simply answer them.

Around that time, Brad came along. She wanted to 'date' and understand boys a little more. This was huge for a Nepali girl. Most, if not all, Nepali girls are expected to have an arranged marriage and most don't even talk to boys until only a few weeks or days before their wedding. When we lived in Nepal Sarita barely spoke to Brad (despite his many efforts) because she was too shy. However, this trip she opened up. She was ready to understand more about men and what they thought. After he left she was devastated, but what she gained from the experience was life changing.

The new Sarita was growing everyday and as she was doing so, we decided to put her in a driving school. Why the hell not? She worked so hard for us every single day. It was one way for us to empower her. The confidence in herself grew and grew. She was budding before our very eyes. Many people scoffed and judgments were made, 'No maid should learn how to drive'. Honestly, at times, it seems like it is the 1930s here.

Over a short span of time Sarita changed dramatically. She was baptized, got her driver's license (no small feat in Qatar, especially for a Nepali woman), and found a man. Miraculous. Truly.

Sarita is leaving us this week to prepare for her wedding. I am trying to contain my sadness but I am not doing a very good job. I am devastated, but I completely understand that she is moving on to bigger, and much better things. She is better now than when I first met her. I know I didn't play a large role in the whole process, but I was lucky enough to witness it all. It is magic when good things happen to good people.

Our lives will change dramatically when she leaves. Asa will not take it very well when he asks 'where is my Sarita?' and she won't be there to answer. She says she woke last night crying because she will miss him so. It is a special bond, and I am saddened to watch it come to an end. No child can be loved by too many people.

In only a few weeks we will all be heading back to Nepal for her wedding. It should be a joyous occasion for us all. I am convinced that Sarita will always be in my life and from what she has done with her life within the short 3 years, I can't wait to see what her future will bring.

Love you, Sarita.