half her size

I was in Wild Oats yesterday picking up a a few groceries. L was contently snoozing in her car seat propped in the shopping cart as I went along. After checking out I proceeded to the service desk to obtain a rain check for an item that had run out. There was an older lady, probably in her early 60's with a young girl, probably about 10 years old, ahead of me at the service desk. As we stood there, waiting, the lady turned around and smiled. Her face was fair and framed with straight but frizzy grey hair. She was smiling at my daughter.

kind lady: How old is she?
me: She's 8 weeks old.
kind lady: Isn't she lovely; so content.
kind lady: (turning to the young girl with her) That is how old you were when we adopted you. Only you were much smaller.
kind lady: (turning back to me) How much does she weigh?
me: She's about 10 pounds now.
kind lady: (speaking to the young girl) you were only 5 pounds when you came to live with us; half her size.

I was kind of lost for words. I smiled friendlily to the young girl and with a kind heart I said, "Looks like she's been feeding you well now!" despite the fact that she was quite lean. I couldn't believe what I had heard. I tried to imagine a 2 month old baby weighing five pounds. I tried to imagine why - how anyone could let such a thing happen - and didn't want to know. I was just grateful this little girl had found a home with this kind lady. I was grateful she received what she deserved: a chance to grow up.

On the drive home my mind wandered. What kind of effect did it have on her? I wondered how many ways her rough beginnings impacted her physical and mental development to this day. So much to overcome for such a young girl. And it breaks my heart to know that she isn't the only one.