After boating on Lake Ypacaraí, Paraguay's largest, in San Bernardino, we stopped in Itaguá and did what the girls had been waiting to do all day: shop. I slept in a chair while my family bought shirts and ''ñandutí." In Guaraní, ñandutí translates to ''spiderweb" and is intricate, delicate lacework.
The next day we stayed in Asunción to meet the 9-year-old girl we sponsor through the Project for the People of Paraguay. The nonprofit agency based in Minnesota provides a variety of services to 107 families in need. In PPP's modest office, Elida and her mother were waiting.
Both appeared frightened as we met around a table. They had traveled an hour by bus to see us. The three children overcame the language barrier by drawing pictures. Elida accepted our gifts with broad smiles.
Later, on the way home, we stopped for dinner in a roadside cafe. Marjorie went into the women's lounge, where a half dozen girls and women were primping in front of a wall of mirrors, all dressed for a party in ruffled blouses and swirling skirts. She looked intently at this gathering of people with black hair and dark eyes and thought how Emily would have fit right in.
Back at the hotel, we chatted with the man at the desk who spoke beautiful English. Marjorie told him about our daughters.
''One is from Guatemala, and the other is from Paraguay," she said. He pointed to Emily and said, ''That one is from Paraguay."
Emily looked startled for a moment. Later, we talked.
''You know, I feel American," she said. ''I know I was born here and I obviously look Paraguayan, but it's hard for me to feel like I'm from Paraguay. I mean, I'm proud of Paraguay, and I cheer for Paraguay in the World Cup, but my real home team is the Red Sox.
''I know someone gave birth to me here, and I have relatives here, but they don't feel like family to me. You are my family."
Contact Bob Sprague, a freelance writer, at bsprague1@rcn.com.
