Since so many people have asked, here goes!
First of all, how do we pronounce Bethan? Simple! Just like Bethany, but without the "ee" sound at the end. It is NOT Beth Anne.
Where did we get this name from? Longer answer. To do it justice I'll start at the begninning and tell the entire story...
It's March 2001, almost 10 years ago. I am going on a mission trip to Wales with a group of other college-aged students from my church in Gainesville, FL. It is my second trip there. The year before this trip my singing ensemble at the church also went, so we got to stay together. Typically there are about 4-5 students per group spread over the northern part of Wales. My ensemble got to stay together. We did a lot of concerts and school assemblies and that sort of thing.
Second trip was different. I was assigned to be with 2 guys. One was a few years older than me, the other was the chaperone for the group. We spent months preparing skits and puppets and crafts and all sorts of things like that. We were going to be sleeping in the attic of a church, camping up there. We knew it was going to be freezing up there so we were prepared!
We are flying out of Tampa, so I went back home a few days early. The night before we were to leave I got a call. There has been an outbreak of Foot and Mouth disease all over Wales and we're not sure if we get to go into the country. All we know is that we have plane tickets into Manchester, England, so we're at least getting that far. Plans get made overnight, and when we get to the airport we hear the new plan. The capital city of Wales (Cardiff) has not been affected, and we can get a train directly into the city without being exposed.
Day 1: We spend the night at the house of some IMB missionaries. The next morning we go to Rhiwbina Baptist Church. They announce our presence while we are there, and ask church members to host us for the week. They'll tell us who we're staying with that night after the evening service.
All I know is I start freaking out. I was pretty shy back then. I was honestly terrified about staying in the home of strangers for an entire week. Everyone kept reassuring me that it would be fine, and that they would most likely put me and Amy (the only other girl on the trip) in a house together. So I started calming down.
In the meantime, when the morning service was over everyone went to the fellowship hall for tea. If you've never been to the UK, this is very common. Tea everywhere. There were days where we would have 5 tea "parties" in one day, just because we had to stop what we were doing and have tea everytime we went somewhere.
So we're standing around, drinking tea, and socializing (me just with the people I already knew). And then I spot her. This 4-year-old little girl. Blonde hair. Wearing this cute little yellow dress. I couldn't take my eyes off her. Cutest thing I have ever seen in my life. But a spitfire! The best word I can use to describe her is stolen from her mother at one point later: cheeky. She had a doll that she was dragging around behind her the whole time. And she was tormenting all the little boys. She was the funniest thing ever. As we were leaving and walking to our van I was telling everyone about her. She walked past us and I got to show everyone who I was talking about.
Fast forward to evening service. Right before the service begins we get our assignments. I am alone. I start bawling. Maybe having an anxiety attack? I finally calm down. I am staying with a couple named Richard and Rachel. We attend the service and afterwards our families come and find us. Richard is there with his 8-9 year old daughter, Jo. They were very nice.
When we get home they show me to my room, I meet his wife, Rachel, and then he tells me he wants to show me one other person. We walk into his
other daughter's room (at this point I didn't know he had another daughter) and she was fast asleep in her bed. I look at her, and ask him, "Did she have a yellow dress on this morning?" The answer was, of course, yes. She was the same little girl from that morning. I really couldn't believe it.
This all may seem silly to you. But to me it was just a very small sign. God really does care about all those little things in our lives that sometimes we feel he doesn't. He really cared about my insecurities about spending a week in a stranger's home. He placed me in the one home with the only person I had any connection to at all in that city. I knew I was going to be okay. In case you hadn't guessed yet, her name was
Bethan.
For the next week I spent every free moment I had hanging out with Bethan and Jo. Whenever our tasks were done for the day, and the rest of my group was getting together to hang out, I always decked out early so I could get home to Bethan. I loved that little girl. I bawled my eyes out the day I had to leave her. But really not just her - I loved that entire family. I had an wonderful time getting to know them that week, and really felt that they became a second family to me.
I never got a chance to get their contact information. For some reason we just totally forgot until the last minute. They had my address, though. I don't remember if I had a chance to give it to them, or if they had it from the church. I didn't hear from them again until Christmas. I got a christmas card with a long letter in it. The problem was the return address was incomplete so I couldn't write them back. And that was the end. Back then the internet wasn't so friendly, and I really didn't know how to find them. But it's 10 years later, and I may be on to something. I googled the church, and immediately found a picture of the father, Richard, on their website as an elder. I have contacted the church and hopefully I will be able to get in touch with them! I want them to know that I have my own little Bethan on the way! And she will arrive 10 years and 2 months after I met their Bethan.
Was that long enough? I promise I'll find a picture of her and post it soon as well.
Jo and I playing Monopoly
Bethan, me, and Jo on our last day together
