Underground Kiev 

This morning Mark and I got up early, 6:30 am, and rode the metro. The station near us is the deepest subway station in the world and used to be part of an underground bomb shelter during Soviet times. It is a beautiful station with Byzantine-styled mosaics of angels and saints, reminiscent of Hagia Sophia. We rode two steep escalators down to the station. We got on the wrong train but after a station or two were able to get help from someone who sent us back to the original station. This time, we rode another escalator back up to a different platform and got on the right train.
 
From the metro station, it was a ten or fifteen minute walk in the cold drizzling rain to the Lavra. Part way there, we had a cup of coffee at a cafe. Warmed up, we continued  and hoped we were heading in the right direction. We passed a memorial to WWII soldiers and saw a wide view if the city and the river.  Soon, we could see a golden dome in the distance so we knew we were getting close. After crossing the street via an underground shopping center(there are underground street crossings lined with narrow tiny shops selling a wide variety of things ranging from cups of hot corn to beautiful flowers) we came back to ground level and saw more domes.
 
The Lavra is a complex of monasteries and has many golden domed, beautiful churches  and caves underneath. It was a started by a monk from Mount Athos many centuries ago. There are museums, a theological academy and active monastic and lay Orthodox life.  One of the first buildings we went in had many icons. One large one was of many saints and included a child saint in the icon which is very unusual. We continued walking around, shivering, until we found our way to a church that was having a liturgy. It was a beautiful service with many people in the congregation and several priests. The choir was very good and all men. There was one man by the door, not in the choir, who was singing along  loudly off key in a strange high pitched voice. The room was warm and the light dim and there were many icons everywhere and people were lighting candles and praying. I felt very much at home.

After the service, we went to the church bookstore and purchased two little children's books for the kids. That's when I noticed that my purse was unzipped and my passport was gone. I thought, how horrible for someone to steal my passport during church! Then again, maybe they stole it while we rode the metro. Last I thought: maybe I left it at home--nothing I could do about it but wait until we returned to our apartment so I put it out of my mind as much as I could.

The Lavra has many monks who are entombed in their caves under the churches. Monks would go there and live in a tiny cell. They usually  would not leave  their cell ever again and people would bring them food and pass it through a grate to them. When they died, they would be buried in their cell. They are still there, intact, hundreds of years later and people visit them.

We bought candles to light our way and followed the line of people through the caves. I get claustrophobic so I was uneasy in such a small underground space, but didn't want to miss out on the experience so I went anyway. While we were down there we saw a child's coffin among the men's coffins. I started to tear up thinking  of my little girl in this quiet world of the dead, so separate and distant from me.    Paradoxically, though, that quiet and seemingly lifeless place is there to testify of the hope of resurrection and of the ongoing life of those whose bodies, like seeds, have been planted in the ground.  Those bodies were there to say, in effect, "We live on and we're still one with you in the Lord."  Being in Mary Evelyn's world in the physical sense made me sad, but through the eyes of faith we look beyond to the world in which she now lives and where we will one day join her.

As the cold rainy morning turned to a  colder  windy afternoon,  we left the Lavra. On our way back to the metro we passed a beggar. I told Mark she looked more like a grandma  than a homeless person. She certainly looked sober. He went back and gave her some money. I watched her and I saw her cross herself three times as he  walked back to me. 

We found our way home and I was very thankful to find my passport on the table where I had carelessly left it.Now we are doing laundry and getting ready to go to the underground mall under Independence Square. We will buy a few presents for the children and get something to eat. Tomorrow, we'll get up early again to drive to Donetsk which is South east of Kyiv (Kiev). The train was not available and it seemed wiser to pay for the driver rather than flying so we are driving. It's another part of this adventure!
 
On Monday we'll meet the youngest boy and if it goes well we'll continue traveling,  probably by train,to meet the other two children in the Crimea.  We have been told that they are good children, healthy and no fetal alcohol syndrome so that is very good!  They have never been in trouble at the orphanage and have a grandma who visits them but can't take them on. We are looking forward to meeting them, but it has surprised us how much this experience has reopened our grief about Mary Evelyn and that has complicated things emotionally for us. If it doesn't go well and we don't feel comfortable with the boy,  we'll come back here and wait for another appointment to get a referral for different children.

Please pray that we will both feel the same way about the children and will make the right decision. We want to have open hearts, but do want to adopt children who will be a good fit for us and for whom we will be good parents.