“The Falashas who lived here,” Abebe said as they crossed the road, “either moved on to Sudan on foot or were airlifted out in the 1980s. Behind these huts lies the original synagogue and a graveyard for the Falashas who perished on the journey.”
As soon as they reached the other side of the road, the children circled Emma and Dylan, welcoming them with big, bright smiles, jumping up and down with excitement of new visitors. And more children appeared, coming from other huts to join them on their walk along a narrow trail toward the historical sites. They all held some kind of craft, trying to get her and Dylan to buy it.
There were so many children, it became impossible to move forward without stepping on them. Abebe, ahead of them on the trail, scolded the children in Amharic and shooed the children, but they ignored him, competing with each other for Emma’s and Dylan’s attention.
One child pushed through the throng and took Emma’s hand. She looked down and found the sweet little face of the smallest girl. She held a basket of hand-painted wooden chicks in her other hand, and stared up at Emma with big brown eyes, her expression stoic.
“Come,” the girl said. “See the church.”
She pulled Emma forward while chastising the other kids into obedience in a way a full-grown man couldn’t. Emma glanced over her shoulder and found Dylan wearing a warm expression.
The girl was intelligent and clever and sweet. She asked where they had come from, how long they would stay in Ethiopia, and how they liked her country. In broken English, she guided them through the adobe synagogue she called a church and around the cemetery with the adobe headstones, all while acting as their personal guide and bodyguard, keeping the other children at bay.
Abebe stood back, arms crossed, grinning at the girl’s initiative, letting the girl act as their tour guide. “This is little Helina. She is very strong, despite her size.”
Not once did Helina ask for money or try to sell them anything, including the chicks in her basket, and Emma found her focus on the history of her village admirable and her English startlingly good.
By the time Helina led Emma and Dylan back toward the road, Emma had gone from charmed to enchanted. She couldn’t explain why, but nor did she need to. She’d learned a long time ago, some people who crossed your path in life stuck in your heart forever—like Dylan. Emma didn’t know why or how Helina stole a piece of her heart, only that she had.
Helina paused to introduce them to her mother, a beautiful woman with smooth skin, long dark hair, and a shy smile. Her father, a gregarious young man with a gleaming grin and sparkling eyes. And her little brother, a shy boy who looked about five years old.
Abebe stood in front of the hut, keeping the other children back.
“This my daughter, Helina.” The father spoke good English and introduced his family.
“Yes, it’s a beautiful name,” Emma said.
“Thank you. It mean light. And she bring light to our family.”
Emma grinned. “I think she brings light to the whole village.”
Her father laughed, beaming with pride.
“Em,” Dylan said, “let me get a picture of you with her.”
Emma looked at the father. “Is that all right with you?”
Dylan took birr from his pocket and offered it to the father. To their surprise, he refused. “No, no. You may take picture.”
Emma crouched next to Helina so they were on the same level, and the girl crouched as well, reminding Emma how children mimicked adults when there was a language barrier.
Dylan took the picture, and Emma faced Helina, running her fingers over her cheek.
“Ameseginalew,” Emma said, thanking Helina.
Her beautiful face broke into a grin that would have dropped Emma to her knees if she hadn’t already been there. “Minim ajdel.”
Even though Emma had vowed not to buy much during the trip, she nearly bought out Helina’s mother’s shop and let Helina make all the choices. When they were done, Emma found herself reluctant to leave.
Dylan shook the father’s hand, covertly passing the man what Emma knew would be a substantial sum of money in local currency. That was another thing she’d learned about him—he was ridiculously generous with people less fortunate.
Even as they returned to the taxi and headed back to the hotel, Helina stood on the roadside, waving until they couldn’t see her anymore.
Dylan wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “You are amazing with kids.”
She smiled up at him. “So are you.”
“I’m thinking I’d like to get started on that family we always wanted when we get home.” He kissed her gently. “What do you think?”