Talking with Connie Sabo in the living room of her north Atlanta home, you'd think from her poise and easy grace that she might have been a contender for Miss America. (She is first cousin to one.) But when I first meet Connie, her blond mane is pulled back in a ponytail, she's wearing jeans and sneakers and playing ball with a dozen Latino kids in the muddy parking lot of an aging apartment complex. "We don't speak a word of Spanish," she said, "but they know we care. We certainly were not equipped for this, but God has equipped us."
Her husband, Frank, is there, too. (He is greeted with shouts of "Mr. Frank! Mr. Frank!")
Soon daughter Taylor arrives with her high school classmates for an afternoon of tutoring, a Bible lesson, and games in the parking lot with the kids of Wyndham Creek apartments. For the past six years, this has been their Wednesday afternoon ritual.
"Definitely, it's a big, long-term commitment," Taylor said.
"Mostly we love kids," Frank said. "And they love us back."