Murals painted in vivid color depicting scenes from early life, decorated the warm restaurant of Bougainvilleas. Music wafted in the air and mingled with scents of homemade food coming from the kitchen. The waiter placed the cloth napkin on my lap, then my fathers. A soft cacophony of noises informed all visitors to the upscale restaurant they were in for a good time: dishes clinking, people laughing, and live music playing.
Life had come full circle for my father. The child who would stand outside the restaurant and watch wealthy Americans and European expatriates come and go, was now the man who walked brazenly into the restaurant to buy his child a sumptuous faire of food. We clinked our dishes, laughed together, and sang to the music playing.
Yes, Life had come full circle.

Returning to the land of the free and the home of the brave is met with new revelations of who I am as a daughter.

I’m the daughter who witnessed financial deprevation and broken dreams.
I’m the daughter who witnessed divine acts of God to provide for our family when my father could not.
I’m the daughter who hung on my father’s back and passed out food to people in need when we had none for ourselves.
I’m the daughter who still believes her father can fix anything.
I’m the daughter who still crawls onto her father’s lap to nap.
I’m the daughter who still whispers my dreams and hopes into the ear of her father.
I’m the daughter who wrote out the Joel 2:25 on a piece of line paper at the age of 7…
Now I’m the daughter who whispers into the ear of her dark-skinned, immigrant father, I will restore to you the years that the locust has eaten, says the Lord.
I love you, Daddy. Thanks for teaching me about your past, so I can know my future.

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