God sent me an angel. His name is Kenny.

When we were looking for apartments, we rode in a random taxi that our realtor hailed. After a block or two, the driver started speaking in English, asking us questions and telling us about his sister and parents who are living now in Miami. By the time we exited the taxi, he gave us his business card and told us to call him anytime. Finding an English-speaking, mild mannered, smile-filled taxi driver this easily and quickly is 100%, without a shadow of a doubt an answer to the many prayers sent up on our behalf.

Kenny is now our transport to and from preschool every day. He picks us up at our apartment complex at 8:15, waits while we drop off Lydia and brings Marcus and I back home (or wherever we need to go during the morning). Then at 12:15 he meets Marcus and I again to go pickup Lydia and return home. All this for a little less than $9 per school day; which is a complete bargain in my mind considering the total peace it has given me about getting around in Shenzhen while we are here. Kenny just loves Lydia and Marcus; he hurries around the car to help them in and out and even gave them gifts from his wife - a box of color pastels for each.

Sometimes angels don't come clothed in white with halos and shimmery wings. Sometimes they are a bit skinny with black hair, a crooked smile and they drive a Suzuki.