I've never wanted to be a soccer mom, ever. It's not been a dream of mine to take the kids to soccer practice every Monday night or to open the doors to the minivan and have a soccer ball roll out. And here I am- every single time I open the door to the van a soccer ball rolls out and I have to chase it down. The only difference is a kid always gets out after me to kick it for a bit before it has to go back in the van, unless we are at a gas station. There is a soccer ball in each van and I smile every time it rolls it way up to the front seat or every time I see it being tossed in the air in backseat.
I've decided that I am not a soccer mom, but I'm a soccer auntie. When I see a soccer ball it reminds me of the children I've met over the years. I've tried to count how many kids I've met overseas before but it's way to hard to remember every little hand I've held and every little babe I've kicked the soccer ball with, but I do know that each of them make a difference in my life. Collectively they remind me of who I am, of what I am doing and just how much a soccer ball will continue to be in my life. I can only imagine what a soccer ball will mean to me when tour is over.
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