Five years ago, when my husband and I decided to sponsor a child, we se arched by birthday to find a girl born the same day as our daughter, Esmé, now 10. Evelyn Vanessa lives in Honduras, is one year younger than Esmé, and the two have many things in common. They both loved playing with dolls. Once in grade school, their favourite subjects were spelling and math. Neither has many chores (spoiled!), but for both, sweeping tops the list. Both are talented illustrators.

Another thing we have in common with Evelyn and her family: we’re busy. ¡Muy ocupado! So we don’t communicate as much as some other sponsors might. But we’re kept up to date on Evelyn’s progress, and we exchange the bare minimum of notes. And that’s been cool: I’m glad Evelyn’s got stuff going on! I like imagining her chatting with her girlfriends, sweeping her kitchen or doing homework. I’d describe our relationship as supportive, but benignly distant.

So when I received World Vision’s letter of good news, I was surprised how it hit me like a brick. Evelyn Vanessa’s rural village outside Tegucigalpa was now self-sufficient. Thanks to the work they’d undertaken with the help of World Vision, the community had clean water, a school, youth training programs, and farming supplies to help the adults improve the yield of their harvests. They were ready to go it alone!

So why was I bummed out? Why miss this girl with whom I’d exchanged only the slimmest of letters? I realized I’d miss the progression of photos, from chubby-cheeked preschooler to reed-thin and serious-looking tween. Her drawings had evolved from green scribbles to a pond with a flock of ducks drawn with deft lines, the mark of a gifted illustrator.

The missive mentioned a new child would be available for sponsorship; her profile would be forthcoming. I felt grateful that we could still help, and yet … Then, a few weeks later, a phone call let me know of an administrative error. Evelyn Vanessa’s community wasn’t fully self-sufficient; support would continue through a different program.

The result was mixed feelings: Happiness to have Evelyn “back” into our lives. Disappointment the community wasn’t yet independent. Satisfaction that World Vision had taken the time to explain the situation, so I knew where my money was going, and that the aid the organization provides does make an impact where it is intended to. Finally: resolution.

Plus, I was aware of how much we’d taken Evelyn Vanessa’s unique presence for granted. I’d barely noticed, until I was told it was time to say goodbye. So I picked up a pen: “Hola, Evelyn Vanessa … I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”