Sasha's smiles, Edna 's tears and Mark's determination to make it all work out

Sasha is very happy about being adopted. he likes to show the other kids the little photo book of our house and pets. He's enjoying the attention from us and from his peers. it's very sweet, in a 100% boy way of being sweet.

I have continued to have my ups and downs Sometimes I want to run away to 2008, but that is impossible and I have to build a new life. I know I drive Mark crazy sometimes, but the adoption has a way of highlighting the loss of Mary Evelyn for me and it can add to my grief. I am sure it will get better in time, and  because of the way this has unfolded, I believe that we are doing something good so I'm moving forward, hoping that my emotions will follow in time.

Saturday evening we'd just had another such moment of me crying and Mark being frustrated when we had to go to Vespers. The woman who hosted us for tea had invited us. It was a lovely service and when I thought the service was over, I went outside to wait for Mark on the church steps. The service, like Orthodox services have a way of doing, continued on longer than I expected and I was just considering if I should go back in when a young girl introduced herself to me. She spoke in nearly perfect English and was absolutely charming. Her father is the priest of that church; the woman we had tea with before, who is not the Matushka (which is the title for the priest's wife--btw, shows how charades can give you the wrong idea), had called them so we could meet. The girl, Sophie, introduced us to her sister and father. He kindly offered to take us for a ride to visit the other Orthodox churches in this town. We were delighted.

We drove around Kovel and stopped by one beautiful church after another. Most of them were brand new as the Communists had destroyed nearly every church in this town.  Most of them now have congregations of about 100 families. When we arrived at various churches on our tour, many were still having vespers so we could go inside briefly and sometimes we met the priest. There were about 12 churches including one that is a monastery. The monastery and its church were also destroyed by the Communists, and our priest/tour guide told us that the bodies of many monks were discovered on the site, those who were summarily martyred at the time the buildings were destroyed.  There is one new monk who is rebuilding; the new church will rise from the very spot of the original one,  where so many hallowed remains were discoveredI.  The location was especially lovely, just outside the town on a little island. It was very peaceful on the island and I wondered at the faith if this one monk who is working so hard by himself to re-establish the once thriving monastery.

here is a photo of one of the newest churches:

 

We felt comfortable with Sophie and her family and enjoyed our time together.  she is a wonderful translator, and it was interesting to get to talk to her parents about many things.  God gave us a  lovely blessing by providing such kind new friends here and it made me think about how that will be one of the simple wonders of heaven: I expect that we'll become friends with all kinds of people we never would've met on earth and we'll have plenty of time to get to know them.

When we came home to the hotel at the end of the evening, Mark said it could be inspiring to me to see how these people are rebuilding after loss.  Leave it to Mark to turn it into an object lesson. How do I live with this man!?

The next morning we went to church with the orphans. It was so hot and stuffy in church that one little girl fainted from the heat. Afterwards, thankful to be in the cool outside air, we walked back across the street to the school with the kids.

There is a little boy named Ruslan who caught our eye from our first visit to the orphanage.  He is Sasha's best friend, and despite an early life of extreme deprivation, he exhibits a poise, intelligence, sweetness and responsibility that have amazed us.  Mark had given him a little gift on Saturday, and when Mark saw him and Sasha playing with it on Sunday, Mark asked him if he liked it.  He gave a big smile and nod and them eagerly whispered something in Sasha's ear.  Sasha then turned to Mark and asked to call our translator, presumably to deliver Ruslan's message.  After trying unsuccessfully to reach Luda on the phone, Mark asked Ruslan to write down what he wanted to say to him. He wrote a short sentence and gave it to Mark with a nervous smile and a gesture that it was a secret.  As this was going on, another little boy was crying, the little girl who had fainted was still out of sorts, and the kids seemed more tired and somehow younger than usual and I couldn't help thinking how much they all need parents.

After we left the school, we tried to translate the sentence and only got the first part : I want nothing from you.  We were very curious about the second part which had a crucial word that we couldn't decipher. Later in the day we went on a picnic to a lake with Sophie and her family and she translated the whole message for us : "I want nothing from you,  I just want you to adopt me."

Oh my! The first answer is it's not possible right now as we've used up our SDA appointments. The second answer is we will go home, get adjusted and see. This tugs at our hearts as we are actually quite taken with this boy, too, but it's not simple. He is almost 13, has living parents who visit, several older siblings in their twenty's and one older sister who is almost 16. She seems to be a lovely girl and we would want to adopt them both if we adopted Ruslan. We have been considering it, but it is not wise to make promises you don't know for sure you can keep so we are handling this carefully. Our translator, Luda, will help us talk to them next week.
 
We had a quiet and pleasant visit with Sasha this morning. Like Mary Evelyn, he'd rather play than read or study, but we spend part of each visit working on developing English skills (he knows about 20 words) and reading things like Go Dog, Go! Sasha will have to do better with English than I have done with Ukrainian or we're in big trouble! Like me, he gets by with big smiles and gestures. Smiling and pointing is good for somethings, but not much. Oh well, the most important thing is he seems like a very emotionally healthy child and is certainly smart enough to pick up the language when he realizes he must.

The hotel is hosting a big, loud party right now. Wow. Maybe we should crash it?  
I think we'll just have coffee and desert in our room tonight. We took a long walk earlier and picked up a little cake! yum! I love life in Kovel. The people can walk to everything they need, even to a loud, wild hotel party on a Monday night!
 

Court Date

At noon today Mark and I entered the courtroom along with our translator, two witnesses, a representative from the orphanage and a local official. The first thing I noticed was the big cage where the accused would sit if it were a trial. Thankfully, we sat on a little bench outside the cage because we were just gathered to meet with the judge so he could grant our adoption petition. It was very simple and not scary at all.After a few procedural questions and a half hour break to deliberate, our petition was granted and Sayid became Andrew Alexander King! Everyone happily congratulated us and said they were glad that Sayid would have a family and a home.

There is a ten day waiting period (during which appeals could be made) until it becomes official on June 7th. On June 7, we travel to the town where Sasha was born to get his birth certificate and his Ukrainian passport. We should be able to get those documents and then pick him up from the orphanage by June 9th. Then we,'ll travel to Kiev to go to the American embassy for a quick medical exam for him and a visa so we can go home! Hopefully, we'll be home by about the 12th.

After our court appointment, we went to the school to see Sasha and tell him about it all. Thankfully, our translator, Luda, was still with us so she could explain it to him. He didn't have to apoear in court with us because they simply accepted the letter he wrote saying he wanted us to adopt him. Sasha looked a little nervous, but was really very happy. Luda also talked to him briefly about Mary Evelyn and told him that sometimes mommy cries because she misses Mary Evelyn, but that doesn't affect how we love him or how happy we are about him. We wanted him to be told that now while Luda was here and could answer any of his questions. He didn't have any.

After that, Luda needed to meet with the Director, who is very impressed with her, and we were left alone our new little son. He sat happily in Mark's lap and played games on the iPad. We had a short but happy visit today.

This evening, Mark and I went out for ice-cream. On our way back to the hotel, we walked by the church I wrote about in the last post. The same woman was there and she insisted we come into her house for tea and cookies. She must be the Matushka - the priest's wife. We sat and drank tea, ate cookies and tried really hard to understand what she was telling us for the next hour. We really had no idea most of the time because neither of us speak Ukrainian, but she was very kind, friendly and enthusiastic. We did a lot of smiling and nodding while she expressively tried to tell us things we had no clue about. I told Mark that we must have missed out on some great stories. Mark said that the way we felt was how Sasha will feel for the first weeks in America, like he's with kind, friendly people who seem to have nice things to say but he'll have no clue what we are saying. It was a good experience for us.

Our family is very excited about their new brother/ grandson/ nephew/cousin and it'll be lots of fun to bring him home and introduce him to everyone! Thanks for all your prayers.

Oil of Gladness

Mark  reminded me of the verse he wrote in the beginning days about sowing in sorrow and reaping with a shout of joy. I said there was joy, but didn't think the real shout of joy would happen for me until we're all together with Mary Evelyn. It feels like there is such a big part of my heart missing, I said I couldn't imagine a shout of joy even in these happy times. Mark disagreed and said I was wrong to not be more open to a joyful future. He reminded me that Mary Evelyn herself said she wanted people to be happy when they thought of her. We got into what we agreed was a rather ridiculous semantic argument about what constitutes a "shout" of joy vs just regular joy, and finally, tired of ourselves, decided to take a walk since it was late in the afternoon.

We had only walked a few blocks when we heard the sound of singing. It was coming from a nearby church. We were not dressed for church and were on our way to get coffee and tiramasu, so we just stood outside the gate and listened for a few minutes. A woman approached us and invited us inside. We showed that we'd like to but were not dressed appropriately.  She said it didn't matter and led us in anyway.  She got a scarf for me and then arranged it correctly on my head and motioned for Mark to come in, too.  He was hanging towards the back so the "babushkas" (old women) wouldn't be scandalized by his shorts and t-shirt in church.  But again she insisted and led him in with me to the center of the small but beautiful new church.  The icons were particularly wonderful. It was the end of a versperal liturgy, so after a few more minutes we got anointed with oil, then the service was over. She gave us holy water to drink and asked us in Ukrainian where we were staying and how long we'd be here. She invited us to come back next Sunday. She was one of the friendliest people we've met so far on this journey and her kindness had a greater effect than she may have imagined.

Here is a photo:

We walked on our way to the restaurant feeling lighter of spirit. I told Mark that I actually felt happy. He said that the anointing oil is for healing, but it's also the oil of gladness. It certainly was for me as I felt more peaceful than I have in a long time.  It truly seemed a divine intervention that we passed that way just then and were compelled to come and receive that anointing--a message to confirm that God has joy prepared for us. 

After our tiramasu, we walked to the river which was lovely. Lots of families were enjoying the park, having picnics, fishing or just walking like we were.  There were lots of dandelions in the fields, making it look like a "wish" paradise. Mary Evelyn, like most children, loved making wishes and would really like the way no one in Ukraine seems to think dandelions  are weeds. They grow freely in yards and look pretty. We took this photo to show you that children are correct, dandelions are flowers:

When we got home, I checked my e-mail and was surprised to see that my friend Robert had e-mailed me a story about a woman whose family died and she didn't want to keep living. In the story, she grieves so heavily that she doesn't accomplish the tasks in life that God had for her and she dreams that she dies and the family members who she longed to see in heaven are surprised to see her  and are sad for her because she came to heaven without doing what she was meant to do in this life. She realizes that Her deep grieving didn't honor them when it kept her from doing what she needed to do here.

Say amen or say ouch. Well, I know that grieving is part of my current experience. I also know the loss of a child is a lifetime loss and there will never be a time when I'll not feel that, but at the same time, while I'm alive I need to do what is in front of me to do and I should be open to the experience of joy.

Sasha certainly has no problem with joy even with the losses he's faced. Today, he was very happy eating chocolate frogs, playing frog checkers with me and being silly with Mark. It is amazing how happy the children are at the orphanage. They all have much to grieve, but they are playful and certainly joyous. Even the teenagers look happier than many more fortunate teenagers I've seen at home.

Here are a few shots from the playground today: 

Sasha's group

Here's our boy with his happy group. Can you see why we want all of them? The future American is in the green shirt.

Days and Nights

During the day, Kovel is a lovely small town. We are staying in quiet, modern (for Ukraine) hotel near the center of town. We have a little suite which is clean and pleasant. During the quiet afternoon while Sasha is in school, we walk through the parks in the sunshine with the other residents, enjoying the spring sunshine and watching the happy children scamper and play. The houses in Kovel seem almost purposefully distressed because the way the colors have faded and chipped is so picturesque. There are nice stores and  small churches along with restaurants and other businesses lining the quiet streets. Every now and then you pass a horse drawn wagon or see an ancient looking babushka, wearing a long sleeved dress, heavy shoes and wool stockings,  and a head scarf tied under her chin while she naps in her cheery garden. I've noticed an old man selling home made brooms made out of bundles of sticks on the side of the road away from town on the highway. He sits sleepily next to his rickety bicycle and  only has 3 or 4 brooms. It seems like an odd business plan to me, but there he sits, patiently waiting for a sale each day, looking like an image from another century.

At night,  the mood changes and first we hear a big thumping techno party downstairs at our hotel which will go on into the wee hours. After the party ends, it seems like the ghosts come out. There are all kinds of strange noises outside. Sometimes it sounds like a man speaking into a megaphone followed by big bangs. The street dogs bark for so long I wonder how they keep up their enthusiasm for it. Car alarms go off and people yell to each other and the trains make noise in the distance. 

I don't really think it's ghosts, but if a place were to be haunted, this town would be a likely candidate if only from the misery that went on here in the first half of the 20th century. First, the Russians came in and violently enforced communism and then the famine of 1932-33  caused many deaths.  Less than 10 years later, the Nazis captured this area. As the Soviets retreated, they murdered and tortured priests, townspeople, even the local Abbot. Then the Nazis got control and decimated the Jewish population. They rounded up many Jews and made them wait to be executed in their own synagogue. Many of them wrote messages in pencil on the walls of the synagogue for their families and later someone copied those messages into a book.  It's amazing that there were people left to rebuild, but there were and they did.

 Kovel is situated on a lovely river. The orphanage is in a smaller town nearby and is on a quiet street with neat little houses and farms. We drive over each afternoon in a taxi.  Sometimes  we pass a farmer taking his three cows home. It looks funny because he's walking them home in the middle of the street. Beyond the orphanage, the farms turn into peaceful woods.

Today when we visited Sasha we got to see his whole group for a little while. They are all very sweet. I took a photo of him showing some of them our iPad. He was having fun showing the other kids what to do, but then left it to play soccer with Tato. We read a story in English, practiced color words (Ukrainian for us, which Sasha enjoys teaching us, and what a generous and patient teacher he is, and English for Sasha) and did a little math. In between, he played Q-Bert (also Tato's favorite!). It was another happy and relaxed visit.

Tonight we're listening to the techno-pop from the party downstairs, distant dogs barking and those loud bangs and odd yells. Tomorrow, it'll be another peaceful, sunny day in this lovely small town and another happy visit at the orphanage with our precious new son. With every visit we feel more endeared to him by his good, fun and sweet manner.  How happy we are to see that he seems to be perfectly normal and healthy and, with each visit, more relaxed and happy with his mama and tato.  It's good that after every scaryish night there seems to be a happier day.

BMOC (Big Man On Campus)

A lovely, quaint house near our hotel:

 

Our first days together

We've been bad not to update in three days while all this goodness is going on--sorry about that!  But in this case, it is true that no news is good news.  

We're doing great.  Things are moving along with an almost miraculous speed and smoothness.  After the wonderful turn of events last Saturday, where we left off, we had another good visit on Sunday.  In that visit, we asked Sasha to read to us.  He ran to his room and came back with what he said was his favorite story.  It was in a book of spiritual children's stories and was about a child who prayed for healing and was told to go with his parents to a particular church where he prayed before a miraculous icon and by God's power, he recovered.  So precious that our little boy has such a tender and pious heart that this would be his favorite story.  Our translator was very touched by it.  She said his reading was about on a 7-year old level, which is understandable since he is nine and has only been in the orphanage learning for two years now.

Monday started with a trip to the orphanage with a regional official to get the official "yes" from Sasha.  He had to compose a handwritten letter confirming his desire to be part of our family.  A litlle cliff hanger again, but not too bad...just a few sober stares into the abyss of unknowing, then he focused and reconfirmed what he'd said on Saturday and began his letter.  After getting his letter, we left and our coordinator/translator started in earnest driving all around getting paperwork done, and the orphanage took Sasha to another town to have blood drawn for HIV and other tests.  We'd hoped to get to visit at the end of the day, but he didn't get back till late, so that was that.

Yesterday, by the end of the day our translator/coordinator had everything she needed to take back to Kiev in advance of our court hearing which she got scheduled for next Thursday, the 26th, at noon.  It sometimes can take a couple of weeks to get done what we've done in three business days, but everyone really wants to help us.  After getting quick and happy service from the regional office here, as we left we thanked them sincerely and one lady responded (in Slavic) "Bless the Lord!", to which we say Amen.

Before the day ended, our translator wanted us to return for a short visit with Sasha, especially to explain that she was leaving and that we'd be visiting him alone now for the next few weeks while we work on the adoption.  She also explained to him about his new name.  As we mentioned previously, he was given the name Sayid at birth.  Our plan had been previously to keep whatever name the child had and make it their middle name, and give then a new first name.  The name Sayid, an Arabic name chosen not because of any connection to an Arabic history but just because his mother had heard it in a movie, packs special baggage (maybe lined with plastic explosives?) that we don't think our boy needs to carry for the rest of his life.  Also, we like his baptismal name of Alexander (whence the nickname Sasha), and the orphanage director asked us to keep this name, which we are glad to do.  Our original plan had been to give him the new first name Andrew, so we're going to put it all together and the boy we bring home will henceforth be Andrew Alexander King.  We plan eventually to call him Andrew, but for now we've dropped Sayid and are only calling him Sasha, which may always be a nickname at home--we'll see.

So when our translator told him about his new name, it seemed to be another big thing to absorb (maybe especially no longer being Sayid?) and we thought he seemed like he might cry again.  Edna pulled out some M&M's for therapy and poured a pile into his sweaty little hand.  Even in his emotional state, that sweet boy first took a few and handed them to me, then few to Edna and to Luda before eating any himself.  Even though his runny nose and sweaty hand made them hygienically questionable, I happily took and ate my two.

So we're on our own now until next Thursday, when Luda, our translator, will come back to help us at court.  Each day we will go out and visit with our boy for about 1.5 hours--not longer so that he can continue his school work.  After court, we'll have another 10-day appeal period before the court's decision becomes effective.  So that means on June 6th, he will be our son officially!  After that, we get a new birth certificate with his new name, a new Ukrainian passport, and we head back to Kiev, where we'll get him a visa from the US Embassy and--finally, blessing God--COME HOME.

I'll leave you with a picture from today's visit, where we discovered that Sasha plays chess.  I like chess, too, so I'm looking forward to lots more matches!      

Day of Favor

We are overwhelmed today by God's blessing.  Yesterday brought an amazing turn of events that, in a way beyond our hopes, answered our prayer that we'd win the favor of the orphanage director.  We were very nervous because, as we'd said, no child has ever been adopted out of this school, presumably because the director is against foreign adoption.  Edna and I were gambling that it was based on his being devoutly Orthodox and didn't want to see his children going to non-Orthodox homes.  Apparently, our gamble has paid out.

We began the day very happy to go see our boy again.  We introduced him here by his legal name, Sayid, but found out yesterday that he was baptized when he came to the school and the director gave him the baptismal name of Alexander, the nickname for which is Sasha, so they call him by both names. We went to the school around 11:00.  When Sasha met us, I was carrying two bags of toys and things and, again, without being asked, he helped me by taking one bag to carry to the playroom.  We did some memory games which again confirmed he has normal intelligence (to us).  I also showed him my iPad, which of course he loved.  I had loaded several fun game apps which we played together.  He and Edna had a lot of fun playing connect four, and he started to loosen up and be a little silly, taking Edna's hand on her turn and forcing her to make bad moves.  

Meanwhile, our translator was doing some more research. Disturbingly, she reported that the assistant director had spoken to Sasha the night before and reported that he likes us, but said he wanted to stay in Ukraine.  We assumed it must be that he was being manipulated, because he only seemed to want to be adopted when we spoke to him.  We went outside and played for a while and someone came by and asked him if his father had come to play with him.  He said no, just guests (which of course, is technically correct, but would have been a chance for him to identify me as his father, if he had chosen).  So after that we left, feeling a little uneasy.  We planned to come back at the end of the afternoon to go to Vespers with Sasha and his group.

At the end of the afternoon, we arrived back and went to the area of the school where Sasha's group lives.  The assistant director showed us around and we were surrounded by the cutest group of 12 grinning girls and boys you've ever seen.  One little boy named Michola stood in a doorway and looked up at me and, wanting to show off his English skills, said with conviction, "one hundred!"  Charm factor off the charts.  They were all so sweet, we said we wanted to take them all home, and we meant it!  We walked over to the little church across he street surrounded by the children who were holding our hands and chatting with us, sometimes throwing in a random word of English.

During this walk over and in the church it was sweet to get to love on these children, to exchange little smiles and see how happy they were.  There were about 40 children in the chapel and, while we couldn't understand the words, the familiar structure of the Vigil service ticked by.  What good children--patiently standing with only a little fidgeting for the 1.5 hour service.  About halfway through, unexpectedly, the director walked in, so he saw us praying with the children.  At the end, along with the children, we went up and received anointing with oil and then returned to the school hand-in-hand with happy, chatty children.

When we got back to the school, the school nurse asked if we wanted to adopt a girl, too.  There was a 15 year old girl how had been following us from a distance and smiling. Evidently, she  hoped so much that we might adopt her that she sent the nurse to ask us.  We told her yes, but we are looking for a younger girl, and are not even approved for over 12 at this point.  Our hearts went out to that girl, though, especially Edna's.

Since he had seen that we were there in church, the director sent word that he wanted to meet with us right then (gulp!).  We were glad, though, to get on with it and went a little later to his office and sat down.  Body language and facial expression were not saying "something good is going to happen to you".  First question, in a rather aggressive tone, "Why are you here, and what do you want?". We said we wanted to adopt, and specifically came to Ukraine to adopt an Orthodox child or children. We also told him about Mary Evelyn and that we have an empty home that we want to offer to kids who have no parents.  With that, very slowly, things began to thaw.  He motioned that his heart went out to us and said that his daughter had also died several years ago at the age of 15. Then he was back to business and lectured our translator at length, the details of which were not all translated, but the basic picture is that he sees himself not as a public servant, but as a father to these children--good part being that he obviously cares a great deal about these children, and it shows!

We complimented him several times about the school and  how we can see the fruit of his loving labors in these children, all of whom appear to be happy, healthy, polite and devout.  There truly can't be a better orphanage in this country.  Downside to his devotion, for someone in our position, is that he obviously wants to protect "his" children from going into homes he wouldn't approve of (he didn't state this, but that's easily assumed).  So the fact that we were devout Orthodox parents, and he had probably been able to observe our loving interaction with the children opened his heart, I believe.

So then we got a shock when he suddenly said he's not against foreign adoption, and that actually, it was Sasha who said no to the Italian family last year.  He said he liked us and didn't want to see Sasha play games with us like he did with them, and asked if he could call him in and ask him to make a decision in front of everyone!  So a few minutes later there was our boy, and the director asked him for an answer and told him he shouldn't change it like he did before.  Poor boy looked terrified and just stared and thought.  I went over to him and gave him a hug and kiss and told him not to be afraid.  He started to cry.  Our translator called him over and held him and spoke reassuring words.  The director looked on kindly and encouraged Sasha to be honest and that he needed to look us in the eyes and tell us what he wants.  Finally, though timidly and terrified, he got it out:  "I want you to be my parents".  Wow.  He continued to look like the proverbial deer in the headlights for a little while, but as the Ukrainian adults chatted on about other things, our new little family had time to sit and soak in the new reality.  I got out the camera and started showing him some pictures.  He would point to Edna in this picture and whisper "mama", then one of me and say "tato".  Then he saw one in our house and  said "my room".  Sweet!  Then I thought of the video function on the camera we started taking videos of ourselves and the silliness broke out!  We had come a long way from Friday morning!

The director got so happy and friendly that he walked us all the way our to our car, joking and smiling and several time shaking our hands and giving us his blessing and best wishes.

We're heading back to the orphanage this morning and are looking forward to another special day. 

Good news--at last!!

Friday the 13th--supposed to be bad luck, but will be remembered in our home as a day of great blessing, because today, God willing, we met our son.

We arose at 4:15  this morning and were on our way in the van with our translator and her husband 1/2 hour later. We drove about 5 hours towards the border of Poland. The countryside was very pretty with lots of pasture land, blooming tress such as lilacs, and truly picturesque villages. Ukraine must be growing on me,  or maybe it's just the lovely spring, but it seems to be a more beautiful country each time we take a trip.

When we arrived in the region of the orphanage we had to pick up the permission forms before going to the orphanage. Usually the caseworker goes with us to the orphanage, but this time the regional director came along. He is a very kind man and spent the greater part of the day with us.

We drove down a country road,  by a field being plowed by a horse, and passed a new church that is under construction. It's across the street from the orphanage. The orphanage is comprised of yellow brick buildings with a courtyard in the center and surrounded by neat gardens. When we went inside, I was impressed first by the cleanliness and then by the attractiveness of everything. The children we saw looked healthy and happy- Mark described them to his parents as rosy-checked and they were. We even got to eat a normal child's lunch in their cafeteria later and it was delicious: soup, vegetables, mashed potatoes, bread and a thick fruit drink.

The Director will be out of town until Monday, so we spoke to other people who were helpful. After hearing a little more background information, we met Sayid.

He's a really nice boy. His eyes are a grey-blue and his hair is light brown. He looks perfectly healthy, not even thin, and seems well adjusted emotionally. I'm a professional educator, I'm admittedly biased, but still I'm confident he has a perfectly normal IQ. He put together a Lego car that we gave him easily, Then we played a memory game with him he gave me hints- even though he was losing point by helping me. He doesn't add numbers well in his head, but both Thomas and Mary Evelyn had trouble with memorizing basic math facts.Sayid told us his favorite things are music and reading books. He has a good sense of humor, he cleans up after himself and he is thoughtful of others. Are ya jealous?

We gave a him a small bear shaped cake as a treat. Without us asking, he chose to share it with us. He carefully broke off gave me one arm, Mark at the other arm, our translator a leg and the Regional Director got the bear's head before that good boy even took one bite. The cake was small, so he was being very generous.  His manners were always easy and thoughtful--the kind that only come  from a sweet spirit within. It is  remarkable considering the life of tragedy, abandonment and neglect that he lived until he came to the orphanage a couple years ago, the details of which we can't share here, but we already have heard enough to be amazed at the kind, open and happy boy we met today. 

As he was playing with a pegboard he made a car. Then he said he would write a word. He wrote mama. He gave me a sweet, shy quick smile when he read it. Then he became thoughtful and said that he wants to visit his mother's grave someday. I thought if I get to adopt him, I'm going to try to make that happen. He said he had one more word to write.  Our translator smiled and said "I bet I know what word", and he smiled and nodded as he spelled out "tato" which is Ukrainian for daddy. Mark got the sweet smile then. He told us in another conversation that he knew when we arrived that we were there to adopt him. He was very nervous when we first met him, but he relaxed as we spent time with him and he seemed happy. 

At the end of the visit, the Regional Director asked if we had made a decision. Mark and I didn't need to speak privately, we both said yes. Sayid wants to be adopted but the Regional Director said Sayid can give his answer on Monday.

We'll visit tomorrow and show him photos of our family, home and pets. We'll need to tell him about Thomas and Mary Evelyn. 

I feel at ease and peaceful about this. It's amazing considering how upset I was the other times. I had been thinking since the last group that I was expecting something unrealistic and that it really shouldn't matter which child we adopt- they all need homes- but Sayid seems to be just the right fit for us and if he truly was wanting an Orthodox home, then we may be an answer to his prayers.

On Monday we'll meet the Orphanage Director. The school is so nice and well run that I already respect him. He must do a wonderful job and he has the reputation of being very loving and devout. I hope everything goes smoothly for us and for little Sayid. 

We'll see our boy again tomorrow and I'll post photos afterwards.    

Sayid--our future son?

So, as it stands at this moment (words carefully chosen because stories, situations and laws change continually here, it seems), we are now planning to go see a boy named Sayid tomorrow--so it will be Sayid or no one that we bring home.  He is 9 years old and has no siblings and, officially, no family (but more on that on a moment).  Here is the lad's picture:

This was the final result of our tumultuous third appointment.  As we've explained, this was high-stakes because this is our last chance.  After a long and tedious two-week wait for this appointment, we had earnestly hoped that some new good 2-member sibling groups were going to come on to the database.  No such luck.  Only the kids who were already there before: two 11-year olds which were older than we wanted, a 7 and 8 year old pair who have turned down three other couples in the past and who are frequently visited by their grandfather, a number of single kids and pairs with major health problems, etc.  We were just about to decide to go for the younger sibling pair, likely to be refused by them, too, when the official pulled out Sayid's picture and explained that he is a devout Orthodox boy who was visited only once before, last year, by an Italian family, and he was going to go with them, but changed his mind because he wanted Orthodox parents, based on his priest's advice.  They also said that his mother died a few years ago and he has no father and no siblings, and no one has visited him in the orphanage.  He is,  by all accounts a good and obedient boy who goes to church of his own choice.  We were both moved to tears at his story and felt this was the boy for us--sounded like we were the answer to his prayers--almost a miracle given almost no foreigners seeking to adopt him would be Orthodox.  The biggest concern, from the information in his file was some kind of cognitive issue, but it wasn't mental retardation.  Weighing it all out after our appointment, we said he was our choice.

We could see right away that our translators were uncomfortable with this choice, and still haven't been able to understand why, exactly.  Our best guess is that it's because they've never dealt with this region and that makes them nervous.  Over the ensuing hours, the stories have gotten crazier and crazier, trying to get us to change our minds.  They've spoken to various people in the region and to the translator of the Italian couple who went last year, and have told us that the boy doesn't do so well in school, so they assume he has a low IQ, that he is actually a gypsy based on someone showing up at the school last year claiming to be his father, who appeared to be a gypsy, then later this theme was expanded to say that he had many gypsy relatives who were coming to the school, at least one of whom was threatening the school with a knife if they let the boy be adopted, so the director is afraid for his safety if he lets the boy be adopted.
  
Having still not dissuaded us, this morning we were told that the boy was not even Orthodox, but that he goes to some kind of sect with which the director seemed to be involved,  that he wants to keeps all the kids in the school for that reason, and that no child has ever been adopted out of this schoothat someone told her that the previous couple that tried to adopt was grilled for hours in his office on religious questions and that all women were forced to wear skirts and head coverings while in the school and that cell phones were not permitted.  These are just the high points in the insanities we've been told.

We began to feel beat down again and considered just coming home, but after so much crazy and conflicting information, we didn't know what to believe and it seemed the only way to find out was to go and see for ourselves.  We decided that, before making our decision (again), we'd request a clear answer at least on the question of whether he was Orthodox.  If so, then it may indeed be that the original story that touched us might be true and it would be worth trying.  Our translator called and at least that one bit of misinformation was laid to rest:  the boy is an Orthodox Christian and attends a church of the Moscow patriarchate--mainstream, vanilla Orthodoxy and by no means a sect.  So how much more was just lies and distortions to dissuade us (whoever it may have come from)?  We shall see for ourselves.

It may be true that the director will do all he can to prevent us from adopting, and it may also be true that the boy has a low IQ.  It may even be true that he has gypsy relatives--but that's a pretty hard one to imagine looking at the picture.  BUT, it may just as well be that the director, himself a devout Orthodox Christian, will be delighted for this boy to have an Orthodox home, even if he has resisted letting him go with others.  And it may be that there is nothing wrong with the boy, whatsoever, and the crazier the stories have gotten, the more I suspect that may be the case.  At this point, we have NO expectations, other than to expect the unexpected, and we are ready, if it is God's will, to be the answer to a little devout Orthodox boy's prayers for parents who share his faith.  Otherwise we come home.  God's will be done.

Written by Mark
 

We went with our American friends to an outdoor folk museum just outside Kiev yesterday. Monday was a holiday here, as in most former Soviet countries, celebrating victory day- apparently the day the nazis were crushed by the might of the communists. Lots of people were off from work and the weather was lovely so there were lots of Ukrainians at the outdoor museum.

It was about 200-300 acres of rolling hills and woods with little villages  placed here and there. The villages consisted of old houses and other buildings, mostly from the 1800's, which were taken apart, transported here and rebuilt. They showed what life was like before collectivism in the various regions of Ukraine. We hired an English speaking guide who was wearing a mesh shirt and seemed to miss the soviets. I was very quiet at first and he asked me in Ukrainian if I were an American because he thought I was a local. Well, after a month it's getting that way.  Ivan was pretty scattered in the way he described things and it would have been more confusing except he repeated a lot of the same lines from village to village such as " this windmill is easily recognizable as being Ukrainian because it is wooden and has a round shape not like those of...." He added a lot of humor, unintentionally.

After he left us, we had lunch/dinner at an outdoor restaurant in the park. Meals require much more patience than at home. We were so happy, after about 15 minutes of waiting to be given menus and then another 10 or so of trying to decipher the Cyrillic writing and Ukrainian words on the menus to be offered English menus. We all wanted shish-ka-bobs and we found them, sort of, on the menu.  After another wait, the food came and luckily most of it came at once (often one of our meals comes way before the other so you just stay flexible and plan on being there a while) and the meat was very good. I was happy that it had been identified as pork on the menu. After seeing grilled horse meat on a menu I'm nervous when it just says "meat". I think the horse meat is unusual here (it was an Italian restaurant ) and that when the menu says "meat" it probably means pork as that is the most usual meat.

 As we finished eating and enjoying the Ukrainian beer (which is cheaper than ordering water),  a troubadour group came in and started to entertain us. There was a man on an accordion and two women singing with great gusto.  People around us started singing along. Very fun!

After lunch we walked over to the other part of the outdoor museum which shows life after collectivism. In the 1930's the old villages were mostly destroyed and all the farms were turned into collectives. At first, about a million people starved and then they managed to make a go of it somehow. This part seemed to be intended to show how nice the modern, soviet villages were in comparison to the old ramshackle peasant villages. Suddenly there were nice little houses with pretty windows and neat little gardens. Oh, the wonderful pleasures of country life under the communists! I noticed two things: almost none of the locals visited this part and it looked nothing like the reality of miles and miles of poverty stricken farm villages I've seen in my travels here. It made me disgusted.

We took a bus and the metro home and had a quiet evening back in our apartment. It was a beautiful evening and I went by myself to the little gastronome (deli) to purchase a few things and they didn't care that I didn't have correct change. Usually you get disgusted looks and sometimes even a deep sigh from store clerks if you give them bigger bills (like a 20 when you need to pay 14) or don't have the right coins. I decided that they think I moved here, so they might as well be nice.

  I know you are wondering about whatever happened regarding the t-shirt that I needed to return. It turned out to be very easy. Someone spoke a little English and it was not an adventure at all.  You can't predict adventure, it just comes your way on its own.

Today we hope to get some previews of available kids. We'll update later and hope it will be good news.

Here is a nice view of the windmills:

Inside an old Ukrainian house:

Troubadours:

Old houses:

A nice example of a rural and really lived in Ukrainian house:

A fictional soviet style house:

Seen on a car in downtown Kiev today:

Hope Deferred

"Hope deferred maketh the heart sick, but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life" Proverbs 13:12

How well this little verse sums it up for us: A month of deferred hope has left us heartsick, but, God willing, two days from now we will see our hopes starting to be fulfilled and it will indeed be a new tree of life. We know that our translators are doing everything possible to find the right children for us, but it is clearly something that will have to be a gift from God--the right children, even at this point as yet unidentified, showing up and being available for us at 3:00 on Wednesday. God grant it.

"And it will be said in that day, 'Behold, this is our God, for whom we have waited that He might save us. This is the Lord for whom we have waited; let us rejoice and be glad in His salvation.' ". Isaiah 25:9

It is a beautiful day here and we are going to take a long hike in the countryside with one of the couples we've met here, who have been such a delight and refreshment to us. They were a gift at the right time, for sure!

Mark


Two more Days

Sunday morning we got up and went to church at St. Michae's. It was funny that we've been here long enough that we've simply picked a church to attend regularly. Neither of us said, let's go here or there, we just walked over to the church.

After the service we walked to Independence Square and in one of the underground street crossing malls Mark bought me a beautiful bouquet of flowers: purple iris and white tulips. They have a lovely scent and it was very sweet of him.

Later in the day as we walked down the street, a Ukrainian man asked if he could speak English with us. He was a Jehovah's witness and was surpsised that we were Orthodox. After a few minutes talking with Mark he was glad to give up on us.

This could have been a tough Mother's Day for me, but it was fine. I had a sweet dream in which Andy Stanley (pastor of North Point) told me that Mary Evelyn lives on and that because of our special love she'll always be with me in my heart. I am not putting a lot of faith in dreams, and will admit that there were also mermen in the dream, but I still woke up with a warm cozy feeling that lasted all day.

I also got to talk to Thomas yesterday and that was very sweet. He and Jessica were celebrating with Mark's family and I was so happy to think of them all there together. I feel very blessed as a mom and I know I have a lot to be grateful for.

In the meantime there are other pressing challeges such as returning a t-shirt that didn't fit me. I bought 3 itmes at 25% off and want to return only 1 so I keep the 25% off and get a store credit instead of money back because I paid with a credit card. I can't speak a word to the store clerks so it'll be fun to try to explain all that.

Today is a special holiday here celebrating victory in WW II. There are parades, tourists and most peope don't have to work. In the photograph below you can see the barricades to keep people out of the street.

It's been hard to wait, but each day has had it's joys. I loved what Mark wrote this morning and only wanted to add the fluffy details of our adventures here.

By Edna

Rainy Days

It's cold and rainy today and that adds to the discouragement we feel. So far, there are no good matches for us for next week. We are approved for 1,2 or3 healthy children ages 6-10 and there are very few available. We thought we could add on special needs to increase our possibilities,  but that would take many more weeks and our appointment is next week so it's not possible. We can possibly adopt older kids, up to age 12, but that is another kind of challenge and sometimes the kids don't want to be adopted when they are older. The first group of three redheads are being adopted by a family from Italy. I don't know what has happened with the second group we visited, but they were not a good fit for us.
  
We may have messed it up by not following through with the first redheaded kids but now  the situation is in God's hands and we must move forward without pointless regrets. We have five more days of waiting until our appointment. At our appointment we will either pick one last group or child to visit, or if there is no match, we'll plan to come home.

We are grateful for everyone's prayers and help. Redcat is getting spoiled between Savannah's visits and Cindy slipping him bacon on the side. Hope is enjoying a long doggie playdate  both at Uncle Ray's and at the Creighton's.  Our translators here are very kind and helpful. They even helped me get my hair cut and colored. I was a little apprehensive because the mullet appears to be popular and many women have various shades of comic-book red hair, but I needed some freshening up and they both have pretty hair so we asked them to recommend a salon. Svetta took us to her salon and translated what I wanted. They said, " we do it differently in Ukraine" and I thought oh! But I trusted them and my hair looks great! We have enjoyed getting to know our translators and also other parents who are adopting. The friends we've made here, the kindness of everyone back home and the opportunity to spend time praying at the local churches have all been great blessings, but the stress of the experience has been tough.

Last night we watched something on Netflix about Stress. It said that mothers who care for chronically ill children age 6years for every year their child is ill. No wonder I needed to get my hair done, I must be an old hag by now according to them! I think they are exaggerating and maybe it's different with each mom.  Both times Mary Evelyn was ill there was a lot of stress, but we tried to find joy everywhere it was hiding. I remember how my heart just ached last year and the fear and sadness about losing her was a daily experience, but I giggled with her every day too. Now it's a different sadness, a sadness about loss and my loneliness from missing her. I guess my grief is more selfish and although I need to walk through it and I'll always miss my girl, I don't want to be trapped in grief forever. The stress of not having a match is hard in its own way by causing another worry, possibly a new loss and another grief. 
 
This rainy spring weather is not keeping me at the apartment today. I'm determined to go shopping. I need a spare sweater. I've worn my black sweater almost every day since we arrived and it's no longer my favorite.  Taking a walk, even in the rain, stopping in at a cafe, checking out wild eyed conspiracy theories about Bin Laden (apparently he's been frozen for years and was thawed just to provide Obama a poll bump)  and reading will help us have a good day. It is a blessing to be together anyway.

Maybe we'll have some surprising new adventure or get some great news soon!

   

Enjoying the Little Things

We wandered in the misty morning looking for an open cafe for breakfast. Today was another May Day holiday so most places were opening late. We hiked way across town to the park with the best vending machine lattes. It's hard to get a regular cup of coffee here.  They serve very small lattes and no one comes around asking you if you'd like a refill. Portions tend to be smaller here too and one side benefit has been losing weight between the smaller meals and all the walking. This morning's walk was pleasant in the cool air and quiet streets. We noticed a greater police presence and wondered if that was due to the holiday, BinLaden or both.

The day was a quiet one of laundry and reading. Mark studied Russian and I read Orthodoxy by G. K. Chesterton until my head started spinning and I switched to Parenting your Internationally Adopted Child which my friend recommended. 

We met a group of parents for dinner at another cafeteria restaurant and had a nice meal and great company. Getting to know other parents is a great blessing and has encouraged me a lot. I'm not freaking out like I was before.

On the way home, while  crossing the main street through the underground passageway, we stopped by an shoe store and I got a pair of black flats. Then we went to McDonald's and I got a coke. I was thrilled when Mark handed it to me and  it had ICE! It was one of the best cokes of my life.

As we walked back close to our apartment I was lightheartedly telling Mark how happy I was to have my shoes, my coke with ice and to be in this beautiful city. Minutes later that peace was diminished by the sound of a man yelling in an angry, wordless animalistic way. He was roaring loudly and sounded crazy. Seriously, we never heard anything like this before in all the hours we've walked around Kiev until yesterday and today. It was creepy but once again, everyone around us just ignored it and we're fine. There's always a strange element somewhere in a big city.

I'm glad to be back at the apartment, finishing up my delicious coke, getting the laundry going again and preparing to watch a movie with Mark. 

Thanks so much for your faithful prayers. God is so gracious to us and is providing for our needs. It'll be wonderful to see what is next. 

I don't know how to turn the photos around on the iPad yet but at least I can post them! Here is evidence of my icy coke:

And here is Mark about to enjoy his vending machine machiatto:

Learning to Wait

Our third appointment with the SDA has now been scheduled for next Wednesday, the 11th, at 3:00, so, as eхpected, we have some waiting to do.  We are filling these days of waiting with reading, sightseeing, relaxing (as best we can) and visiting with other couples in the same process, who have been a great encouragement to us.  As we have learned more about this beautiful country and its amazing history, Mark and I feel humbled and honored to have the opportunity to adopt Ukrainian children.   

Today we went back to the Lavra (churches and caves of monks founded 1,000 years ago).  After getting off the metro, we walked through the same parks as the last time but this time instead of being cold and wet, we enjoyed seeing the lovely blooming trees and tulips as we were warmed by the soft sunshine.

The lovely weather and casual schedule we have inspired us to explore more and we discovered a strange looking museum underneath the ground. It had a sculpture above ground that looked like little bars of something under a sharp fence. The sculpture may have been representing locking up grain because it was the museum of the Ukrainian Famine of 1932-1933 called Holodomor or the hunger that kills. This famine was caused by communists who after shooting or imprisoning the priests and educated classes in 1930, forced the small family owned farms to collectivize and then gave them unreachable quotas of grain. The farms were not able to produce the amount of grain that some bureaucrat or perhaps Stalin himself wanted so the communists punished the people by taking away all of the grain the farms grew, even produce from their little vegetable gardens was taken. Eating food from your garden was a crime punishable by shooting.

The people starved and some even resorted to cannibalism after eating dogs and cats. They tried to reach out for help from the rest of the world, but nothing was done to help them. The Soviets denied the famine (and continued to deny it until 1987) and no other country intervened. Millions starved in those two years. The Ukrainians believe that it was a deliberate attack on them by the Soviets so they would be too weakened to rebel or break free from the communists. 

Learning of the struggles of a nation against communism on the day that our country  is celebrating the death of our Osama bin Laden is a reminder that evil is real and walks among us.  It's behind the fanatical and egotistical beliefs of people who say they want to help the common man but really seek power for themselves and cause terrible suffering and death for innocent people. 

Hope was a few minutes further down the path at the Lavra. This quiet monastery with its beautiful churches, blooming gardens, ancient graves of monks and active seminary stands as a reminder that even when evil seems to win for a time, God is with us and He has conquered death. The Ukrainian people have  rebuilt their beautiful churches and monasteries and their faith seems to be an integral part of the national identity. The ghosts of the communists must be tormented at the sight of this free people who are rebuilding their nation and their churches. Today was a holiday and the Lavra was crowed with people enjoying the spring day while visiting an ancient holy site.  

Everyone was enjoying the day at the Lavra except a young woman who was screaming. She looked like an ordinary woman and even had a purse, but she was screaming and thrashing  her arms as she walked. It looked like one might imagine demon possession to look. Pretty creepy, but there were so many priests around I guess someone would know what to do. Everyone just let her be and she walked past us, screaming in ugly tones. I don't know what happened after that. 

As we walked back to the Metro, we had ice cream cones and were surprised by tanginess until we realized that instead of vanilla and chocolate soft serve, it was lemon and chocolate.   It was better than it sounds and surprises like that make the waiting more fun. We are planning restful, interesting days as we count them down until our real adventure begins again.