Sometimes when different cultures meet there is a spark.
Sometimes when different cultures meet there is a new family created.
Last night I became the Godmother of a beautiful little boy who came into this world to two of the sweetest people I know.
Their love story is one made of Hollywood movies.
Last night, I got to be a part of their family and their traditons at their new son's naming ceremony.
The naming ceremony is a Nigerian tradition where no one but the parents know their child's name until the day of the ceremony. The parents pray on the decision of what to name their child and it's meaning. Tradition was abundant last night and even a little familiar.
With prayers being said in English and Nigerian, songs were sung that we all know like "Amazing Grace".
Amens flooded the hearts and mouths of all of us.
The clothing worn by family and friends were carefully thought out and detailed with colors and stitching.
It was a beautiful ceremony with family and friends, even the grandparents who came to town had friends, from their own childhood, visiting.
...Not a smile...
...Not a wink...
Grandfather sat staring straight ahead eating with out even looking at his plate.
I suddenly felt like Lucy without an Ethel.