Saturday morning dawned early, much like every morning here in Siberia. It gets dark around 11:30 pm, and gets light about 4:30 am. Makes for a long day, especially a weekend day like today where we don’t get to go to the orphanage. A glance out our 7th story window showed it to be rainy, cold, and cloudy. With Sara dead to the world, I proceeded to the business center to call my boys, but unfortunately it does not open until 10 on the weekends. Three books, the laptop, and the portable DVD player help to pass the time. I just keep reminding myself that I’m not going to have a break from regular life like this for a long time, maybe never, so I’m doing my best to cherish the down time.
Meals are always an adventure. I hate to say it but I didn’t learn as much Russian as I should have. Sara knows more than I do, yet I always manage to be the one that has to communicate. Luckily, the hotel restaurant has English translations of all their dishes, or the best equivalent (I couldn’t quite figure out what “waving bacon” was. I keep picturing the truck of pigs we passed on the way to the Moscow airport, hooves aloft in salute to us). We decided to try the Borsch, a famous Russian soup made mostly of beets, with meat and sour cream mixed in for good measure. I must say, I was pleasantly surprised and found it to be a tasty treat. Russian food has been very interesting for us thus far. What we have come to realize is that to the Russians, everything needs to be the same temperature, or close to it. The cold drinks are lukewarm, and the hot food comes out room temperature. It’s taken some getting used to. Us picky Americans.
We ventured out on the streets to find the children’s store (again, with me getting the directions from the hotel front desk). It turned out to be a big, three story indoor mall with everything from clothes, to DVD’s, to toys, to strollers, and everything in between. The big surprise was the price relative to the U.S.. An umbrella stroller that would run you about $10 at WalMart in the U.S. runs you $50 here in Krasnoyarsk. We didn’t buy anything, but at least we know where to go in an emergency (the highlight was the life-size stuffed ALF from the early 90’s T.V. show).
We met another couple from the U.S. that had just completed their own adoption of an 18-month-old and were heading out the next day for Moscow. We agreed to all have dinner together at the California Pizza Kitchen (yes, the California Pizza Kitchen. Trust me, we’re going to be sick of pizza by the end of this trip). Believe it or not, the California map on the wall had Escondido on it. Wow, it almost felt like being home (ok, not really). The pizza was excellent, and on the way we located the KFC and the Subway, so between these three we should be set for the next week-and-a-half.
The day ended with an authentic Russian ice cream cone from a corner stand, complete with the hammer and sickle on the package. The cone was soft instead of crunchy, the ice cream was fluffier, and it had jam inside. Strawberry. I must say, different but yummy all the same.
Tomorrow promises to be much of the same, with hopefully warmer temperatures and better weather conditions. Sometimes it blows my mind to think about where we are. WE’RE IN SIBERIA! Of all places. And we’ve been in Russia for over a week-and-a-half! It’s crazy to think of the journey that has brought us here. That God would have chosen this little boy halfway across the world for our family, and lead us here to this very moment in time. I know that I easily get stuck in my own little world and all the “important” things that it contains, yet I so often forget that there is so much more going on than what I see or think or feel or comprehend. And to be a part of something that has extended so much further beyond my own little circle of existence has truly been a blessing. I am so glad that so many others of you have chosen to be a part of this journey. To be a part of a much larger plan. All of the little journeys that will begin from this one journey. What an exciting time! I can’t wait to see what God has in store for the lives of those of you that we have hopefully touched with our journey and our story. He’s got big plans for you too, if you just let him work…
JP
Monday, May 26, 2008
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Breakthroughs and Learning
Only 1 day behind now. Also, here's a picture of us in front of the courthouse (after the decision...that's why we're smiling)
Today was day 4 with Misha, and it was a day of breakthroughs and learning. By this time, our visits with Misha are running the risk of becoming “more of the same”. We are limited to the one room with its toys and its small area. No going outside. No venturing anywhere new. We are bringing the same toys to increase his familiarity with them and to increase his comfort level. Mostly, we are just focusing on developing attachments and bonds with him. But in some ways it is difficult, because this is still “his turf”. In his mind, there is still some ownership to this place as “his” home. It makes it difficult to begin to establish him in his new life with us.
But the closed environment has some benefits. We visited Misha in the morning this time, and when we arrived the room was being used for a puppet show for the kids. Three of the orphanage workers were putting on a show for the children, complete with music and singing. We were confined to one half of the room while various groups of children came in to watch the show. We did our best to play with Misha, but it was soon very clear that the amount of stimulation from the puppet show going on in the room, mixed with the fact that we gave him access to all of his toys in the suitcase was becoming too much for him. He became very quick in his movements, had trouble focusing on one thing, and was very wiggly in our arms.
Both Sara and I recognized what was happening, so Sara picked him up and took him to a corner of the room to hold him. As the children filed out and things calmed down, Sara fed him a snack and held him in her arms. She immediately noticed a change come over him. He calmed down, and began to relax. According to Sara, it was the first time that she felt that he truly relaxed in her arms. He willingly laid his head against hers, and she said that if she had kept it going, he probably would have fallen asleep. That is such a positive step, both in us learning first hand about how he responds to varying levels of stimulation and knowing that we can bring him down when it gets too high.
We have read a number of books regarding attachment in children from orphanages, and it was amazing to see how “by-the-book” his behaviors have been thus far. It makes us feel somewhat prepared for the work that this transition is going to be. And it truly helps us understand what is really going on inside of Mikhail so that we can approach it in the right manner. As hard as this waiting period is, it is not without its benefits.
We are scheduled to pick up Mikhail on Friday. At that point, we will be able to post pictures of him on the blog, as the adoption will be officially complete. Please keep checking up until then.
JP
Friday, May 23, 2008
The First Day of the Rest of our Lives
Please start 2 posts down, as I posted all three of these in a row on the same day. This keeps it in chronological order….if you are interested.
Today is day one of life with Misha as our official son. At this point, it still hasn’t fully sunk in that court is done. There aren’t any more major hurdles. At least he is our son. All other hurdles will regard getting him home, but they are minor and we should have no problems with those. The staff here in Russia has it down pretty well. The liason in Moscow has assisted in thousands of adoptions, so he knows what he is doing.
The day started with a small breakfast down in the restaurant (all our breakfasts are small because are choices are limited by American standards….we’re so picky). We then had the bright idea to hike across the river to the Hotel Krasnoyarsk to post e-mail and blog. We did it yesterday, but let’s just say the weather was a little different yesterday. When we reached the middle of the Yenesi River, the wind was so stiff we could hardly walk in a straight line. And it was cooooold. We were relieved to reach the hotel and thaw. Needless to say we experienced our first Russia cab ride, which our driver later told us we overpaid for, but we didn’t care. We were just happy to be dry and warm.
We arrived at the orphanage about 3 pm, eager to see what the reaction would be this time around. Half optimistic that we would make more progress, half dreading a negative setback. I am happy to say that the first held true. Only about a minute of crying, and he started to relax. The smiles came much quicker this time. The interaction much more easy and relaxed. More communication. More personality. He loved the raisins. He started with feeding Sara and I, and then decided if we weren’t falling over dead, he’d give it a go. Then he slammed them.
Playtime was much more interactive. He moved much quicker around the room, pulling down stuffed animals and going down the slide into the pit of balls. The best way I can describe it…he’s starting to act like a 2-year-old. And that is a wonderful thing. We are realizing that he is used to having things his way. We were told by his caretaker on the visit before court that he is the head of his group. We are definitely starting to see that more and more. He is definitely in for a transition, but we are well aware of some of the issues that we are going to face, and we feel confident that we can rise to the challenge.
JP
Today is day one of life with Misha as our official son. At this point, it still hasn’t fully sunk in that court is done. There aren’t any more major hurdles. At least he is our son. All other hurdles will regard getting him home, but they are minor and we should have no problems with those. The staff here in Russia has it down pretty well. The liason in Moscow has assisted in thousands of adoptions, so he knows what he is doing.
The day started with a small breakfast down in the restaurant (all our breakfasts are small because are choices are limited by American standards….we’re so picky). We then had the bright idea to hike across the river to the Hotel Krasnoyarsk to post e-mail and blog. We did it yesterday, but let’s just say the weather was a little different yesterday. When we reached the middle of the Yenesi River, the wind was so stiff we could hardly walk in a straight line. And it was cooooold. We were relieved to reach the hotel and thaw. Needless to say we experienced our first Russia cab ride, which our driver later told us we overpaid for, but we didn’t care. We were just happy to be dry and warm.
We arrived at the orphanage about 3 pm, eager to see what the reaction would be this time around. Half optimistic that we would make more progress, half dreading a negative setback. I am happy to say that the first held true. Only about a minute of crying, and he started to relax. The smiles came much quicker this time. The interaction much more easy and relaxed. More communication. More personality. He loved the raisins. He started with feeding Sara and I, and then decided if we weren’t falling over dead, he’d give it a go. Then he slammed them.
Playtime was much more interactive. He moved much quicker around the room, pulling down stuffed animals and going down the slide into the pit of balls. The best way I can describe it…he’s starting to act like a 2-year-old. And that is a wonderful thing. We are realizing that he is used to having things his way. We were told by his caretaker on the visit before court that he is the head of his group. We are definitely starting to see that more and more. He is definitely in for a transition, but we are well aware of some of the issues that we are going to face, and we feel confident that we can rise to the challenge.
JP
Court
We returned from the orphanage, heads spinning with the visit and the potential questions from the judge tomorrow. I attempted to type e-mails to my boys on the laptop on our drive back to Krasnoyarsk, and after hitting the business center at the Hotel Krasnoyarsk (where we were supposed to stay) to e-mail, we headed to California Pizza Kitchen for dinner. The pizza was excellent, though the nerves about tomorrow made the experience a little less enjoyable.
Returning to the hotel, it was cram time. I sat down with the questions we had jotted down on the drive, and proceeded to pen answers to all of them. By the end of the evening, my eyes were crossing and my brain had turned to mush. So I put it down and decided to get some sleep. Tomorrow would come either way, and I needed to be rested.
Sleep came fairly quickly at first, but in fits and starts after waking up at about 2 am. It was a little before 8 am when I decided to give up the fight. Sara slept a grand total of 1 hour during the night, surrendering the battle at about 5 am. Our driver was set to pick us up at the hotel at 11:30, so we had time to spare. I finished the answers to the remaining questions, and proceeded to study them so that, given the intimidation of standing before the judge, at least I wouldn’t have to come up with something off-the-cuff.
Nerves zapped my appetite, but I managed a small cup of yogurt and some water. Nothing could have prepared me for the stress that I felt that morning. It’s crazy. With God in the driver’s seat all along through this process, you would think that I would have been resting secure. But, when you have spent nearly 2 ½ years preparing for something like this, and you know that future of a child is at stake and it all comes down to this moment, it can be a little overwhelming. Through prayer I tried to calm myself and trust that God had lead us this far, and he was not going to back down now.
Many times through this process I have felt like a battle waged for the life of Mikhail, one side wanting him to come home to a loving family and one side wanting him to stay alone in the orphanage, without a hope. I just prayed that this battle would be won before we even set foot in the courtroom, and that what was right and what was true would win out over what was evil and what desired misery. I prayed that Satan would be bound from the courtroom completely. That when those doors shut, he would be gone.
We arrived at the courthouse shortly before 12 pm, when the first hearing before the judge would begin. We were not sure who would be first, us or the Franks. Both of us hoping secretly inside that we would go first and get it over with. We reached the outside of the courtroom and were informed the Franks would be going first. Just what I wanted, another hour to sit and think. I tried to put my head back and pray, but weariness from all the stress began to sink in. I wanted to be alert and fresh for the hearing when it was our turn, so I grabbed my cheat-sheet and began to pace up and down the hall, answering the questions in my head. The Franks’ son, Andrew (he’s 7 years old), thought it was a pretty fun game, so he joined me in my pacing. We two, in suits and ties, must have looked like quite a pair, wearing a groove in the stone tile floor and appearing a bit odd to the casual onlooker. But I will be forever grateful for the smile that he brought to my face and a small, but much needed break from my apprehension that he provided. Thanks Andrew.
Shortly under one hour later, the Franks were finished. They exited the room, and I almost threw-up. After a long deliberation of one minute from the judge, they returned to the courtroom. Andrew was the first to come out with a huge smile on his face. We exchanged high-5’s as he said “Dmitry gets to be ours!” Inside I was so happy for them. Their process was just as long and daunting as ours, and to know that this little boy was going to such a wonderful family was cause for celebration. But in my fear of what was to come, I only managed a simple “congratulations”. I know they understood.
Sara and I entered the courtroom, holding our heads up high in mock confidence. We took our seats in front of the judge’s bench. The translator was seated to my left. A table on my left held our Krasnoyarsk liason, the orphanage director, and the representative from the Russian Ministry of Education. The secretary in front and to the left, the prosecutor in front and to the right in bright blue uniform, and Judge directly in front on the elevated bench below a Russian seal. Before the cotton in my mouth could fully form, the proceeding began.
Questions flew and were translated. Answers flew and were translated. I got choked up once while detailing my boys’ feelings toward Misha. Sara struggled to explain “home schooling” to the judge. Discussions were sparked in Russian between all those present about why more Russian families don’t adopt these children and their foster care system and what can be done to change things. More questions, more answers, more translating. I had never felt so lifted up in prayer in my life than during that moment. I knew that so many back home were staying up late, praying for us. And I felt it in a way so powerful I was at times struck dumb with awe. Over an hour had passed before we were dismissed. Our minute passed, and we returned to hear the verdict.
YES!
We shook hands and exchanged hugs with all that were present, and left the courtroom with feelings too great to put into words. In the blur of time that passed, we took pictures outside the courtroom. Curious George sat on the steps and posed, amidst much pointing and laughter from Russian onlookers. But I didn’t care. Misha was ours! For the first time, we could say for certain and forever that “Misha is our son”.
Returning to the hotel, it was cram time. I sat down with the questions we had jotted down on the drive, and proceeded to pen answers to all of them. By the end of the evening, my eyes were crossing and my brain had turned to mush. So I put it down and decided to get some sleep. Tomorrow would come either way, and I needed to be rested.
Sleep came fairly quickly at first, but in fits and starts after waking up at about 2 am. It was a little before 8 am when I decided to give up the fight. Sara slept a grand total of 1 hour during the night, surrendering the battle at about 5 am. Our driver was set to pick us up at the hotel at 11:30, so we had time to spare. I finished the answers to the remaining questions, and proceeded to study them so that, given the intimidation of standing before the judge, at least I wouldn’t have to come up with something off-the-cuff.
Nerves zapped my appetite, but I managed a small cup of yogurt and some water. Nothing could have prepared me for the stress that I felt that morning. It’s crazy. With God in the driver’s seat all along through this process, you would think that I would have been resting secure. But, when you have spent nearly 2 ½ years preparing for something like this, and you know that future of a child is at stake and it all comes down to this moment, it can be a little overwhelming. Through prayer I tried to calm myself and trust that God had lead us this far, and he was not going to back down now.
Many times through this process I have felt like a battle waged for the life of Mikhail, one side wanting him to come home to a loving family and one side wanting him to stay alone in the orphanage, without a hope. I just prayed that this battle would be won before we even set foot in the courtroom, and that what was right and what was true would win out over what was evil and what desired misery. I prayed that Satan would be bound from the courtroom completely. That when those doors shut, he would be gone.
We arrived at the courthouse shortly before 12 pm, when the first hearing before the judge would begin. We were not sure who would be first, us or the Franks. Both of us hoping secretly inside that we would go first and get it over with. We reached the outside of the courtroom and were informed the Franks would be going first. Just what I wanted, another hour to sit and think. I tried to put my head back and pray, but weariness from all the stress began to sink in. I wanted to be alert and fresh for the hearing when it was our turn, so I grabbed my cheat-sheet and began to pace up and down the hall, answering the questions in my head. The Franks’ son, Andrew (he’s 7 years old), thought it was a pretty fun game, so he joined me in my pacing. We two, in suits and ties, must have looked like quite a pair, wearing a groove in the stone tile floor and appearing a bit odd to the casual onlooker. But I will be forever grateful for the smile that he brought to my face and a small, but much needed break from my apprehension that he provided. Thanks Andrew.
Shortly under one hour later, the Franks were finished. They exited the room, and I almost threw-up. After a long deliberation of one minute from the judge, they returned to the courtroom. Andrew was the first to come out with a huge smile on his face. We exchanged high-5’s as he said “Dmitry gets to be ours!” Inside I was so happy for them. Their process was just as long and daunting as ours, and to know that this little boy was going to such a wonderful family was cause for celebration. But in my fear of what was to come, I only managed a simple “congratulations”. I know they understood.
Sara and I entered the courtroom, holding our heads up high in mock confidence. We took our seats in front of the judge’s bench. The translator was seated to my left. A table on my left held our Krasnoyarsk liason, the orphanage director, and the representative from the Russian Ministry of Education. The secretary in front and to the left, the prosecutor in front and to the right in bright blue uniform, and Judge directly in front on the elevated bench below a Russian seal. Before the cotton in my mouth could fully form, the proceeding began.
Questions flew and were translated. Answers flew and were translated. I got choked up once while detailing my boys’ feelings toward Misha. Sara struggled to explain “home schooling” to the judge. Discussions were sparked in Russian between all those present about why more Russian families don’t adopt these children and their foster care system and what can be done to change things. More questions, more answers, more translating. I had never felt so lifted up in prayer in my life than during that moment. I knew that so many back home were staying up late, praying for us. And I felt it in a way so powerful I was at times struck dumb with awe. Over an hour had passed before we were dismissed. Our minute passed, and we returned to hear the verdict.
YES!
We shook hands and exchanged hugs with all that were present, and left the courtroom with feelings too great to put into words. In the blur of time that passed, we took pictures outside the courtroom. Curious George sat on the steps and posed, amidst much pointing and laughter from Russian onlookers. But I didn’t care. Misha was ours! For the first time, we could say for certain and forever that “Misha is our son”.
Misha Smiled
2:00 pm was slow in coming on Monday. Still trying to get on schedule, I woke up at 5 am ready to start the day. Put myself through a workout in the dark in the room to prepare myself for the cold shower (The city provides all the hot water to all the buildings. No building has its own hot water supply. For this week, they are doing repairs and maintenance on their systems so there is no hot water anywhere). Needless to say, if I wasn’t fully awake before my shower, I was afterwards. Another luxury I have taken for granted, but never again. Breakfast in the hotel is always an experience. We kind of recognize what’s edible at the buffet now, and we are a little more daring. Slathering jam over everything makes it all taste like raspberry, so we’re usually good. I dig the drinkable yogurt, and I’m becoming quite the tea coniseur.
After much thumb twiddling, our drivers arrived for our trip to Sosnovoborsk, where the orphanage (Baby House #5) is located. This was also crunch time for court tomorrow. Notebooks flew out as Yelena spat out questions that the judge might ask, and our translator interpreted. We answered as best we could for rehearsal, and were told what to and what not to say. We all felt a little nauseated when we arrived, a healthy combination of nerves from the drive and the winding roads of Siberia. But we couldn’t wait to see the boys. The familiar booties over our shoes were a welcome sight. We knew the drill. The Franks caught sight of their little boy, Dmitry, as he was being led up the stairs to the meeting room. He was being led hand in hand with another child with a big yellow bow in her hair. I had to do a double take. Knowing how they dress the children here at the orphanage, I wasn’t taking for granted that it could have been Misha in the green dress and bow (thankfully it wasn’t). Up the stairs we went, nerves clicking away.
Misha was waiting for us in the room, sitting with a caretaker in a chair to the right of the door. Sara went in first and saw him. She went right to him, expecting and receiving the same response as before. She picked him up and placed him in her lap in the chair, holding him close as I got the video camera going (my usual job at the beginning). He settled down very quickly, but clung to Sara as the little monkey he was before. I approached him much quicker than before and was able to make physical contact after only a couple minutes. No holding though, let’s not be silly.
I left the room for a minute to use the restroom, and I was walking down the stairs I had a moment to contemplate and pray. Seeing him again and seeing the response the same as it was the last two times, I got discouraged. I started to wonder if this was going to be it. If this was the best we were going to hope for. I can’t remember what I prayed, but I just needed some clarity about how to proceed from here. And as I headed back up the stairs and into the room, thinking about Misha and some of the attachment books that I had read, it all came into perspective for me. The past two visits were spent trying to get him to do things, to play with things, to eat things. Both by us and by the orphanage workers. Trying to get him to perform for us. See what he does. But that’s not what it’s all about. We know that we love him. We know that we want him to be our son. All we need to do is start loving him. If that means holding him for two hours so that he can feel us, smell us, see us, get used to us, than that’s all we need to do…that’s all he needs to do.
So when I sat down with him again, I decided that it was just time to be myself, to be his dad. He doesn’t need to win my love. I need to love him. I sat on the floor near him and talked to him as Sara held him, touched his arm and his hands, showed him pictures of our last trip to meet him, looked him in the eyes. I’m here for you, and I will always be here for you. I’m not going to leave you, ever. I’m going to sit with you until the end of my days.
And that’s what we did for the next 30 minutes or so. And you should have seen the change. His face gradually relaxed. His body became less tense, more relaxed. As he stood in Sara’s arms while she sat on a low chair, he gradually relaxed into her arms. She decided to give him a little tickle, and we saw a little smirk. I told Sara, and she did it again. This time, a bigger smirk. Keep going, I said. Trying hard not to break his stoic countenance, he fought back a smile as Sara’s fingers dug into his ribs. But he was no match. The next thing we knew we saw a full-tooth smile break free, and it was as if his spirit came forth from behind a huge wall. It was cracking and crumbling. I told Sara to keep going. The wall was giving way. And then it happened. He broke free with a huge smile, and threw himself back into Sara’s embrace with complete relax and abandon. It brings tears to my eyes even as I write it.
Shortly after, I took him by the hand and we walked through the room filled with toys. He found a little pull-back car the Franks brought for their little boy, and it brought a huge smile to his face. Then the most amazing thing happened. The most miraculous change came over him, and for the first time we truly saw Misha. He started to talk to us! He ran to the window, pointing and saying something. We’re not sure what he was saying, but I picked him up and we pointed out the window together. Then he was moving quickly through the room, and we took turns launching the car back and forth to each other. Smiles and babbles.
No sooner had this all started, that his caretaker came in to take him back to his group. Our first response was “NO! Not now! We just got started!” But as he ran to his caretaker, he was all smiles. And as we said “Paca, Misha!”, he was smiling ear to ear. I knew at that moment that it was all going to be ok. If even for a few minutes, he finally got to be himself. He got to experience life in the arms of the loving family that would make him theirs. And he was happy. He was content. He was loved. If making Misha smile was the last thing I got to do on this earth, then death would greet me and find me smiling and content with my life…
JP
After much thumb twiddling, our drivers arrived for our trip to Sosnovoborsk, where the orphanage (Baby House #5) is located. This was also crunch time for court tomorrow. Notebooks flew out as Yelena spat out questions that the judge might ask, and our translator interpreted. We answered as best we could for rehearsal, and were told what to and what not to say. We all felt a little nauseated when we arrived, a healthy combination of nerves from the drive and the winding roads of Siberia. But we couldn’t wait to see the boys. The familiar booties over our shoes were a welcome sight. We knew the drill. The Franks caught sight of their little boy, Dmitry, as he was being led up the stairs to the meeting room. He was being led hand in hand with another child with a big yellow bow in her hair. I had to do a double take. Knowing how they dress the children here at the orphanage, I wasn’t taking for granted that it could have been Misha in the green dress and bow (thankfully it wasn’t). Up the stairs we went, nerves clicking away.
Misha was waiting for us in the room, sitting with a caretaker in a chair to the right of the door. Sara went in first and saw him. She went right to him, expecting and receiving the same response as before. She picked him up and placed him in her lap in the chair, holding him close as I got the video camera going (my usual job at the beginning). He settled down very quickly, but clung to Sara as the little monkey he was before. I approached him much quicker than before and was able to make physical contact after only a couple minutes. No holding though, let’s not be silly.
I left the room for a minute to use the restroom, and I was walking down the stairs I had a moment to contemplate and pray. Seeing him again and seeing the response the same as it was the last two times, I got discouraged. I started to wonder if this was going to be it. If this was the best we were going to hope for. I can’t remember what I prayed, but I just needed some clarity about how to proceed from here. And as I headed back up the stairs and into the room, thinking about Misha and some of the attachment books that I had read, it all came into perspective for me. The past two visits were spent trying to get him to do things, to play with things, to eat things. Both by us and by the orphanage workers. Trying to get him to perform for us. See what he does. But that’s not what it’s all about. We know that we love him. We know that we want him to be our son. All we need to do is start loving him. If that means holding him for two hours so that he can feel us, smell us, see us, get used to us, than that’s all we need to do…that’s all he needs to do.
So when I sat down with him again, I decided that it was just time to be myself, to be his dad. He doesn’t need to win my love. I need to love him. I sat on the floor near him and talked to him as Sara held him, touched his arm and his hands, showed him pictures of our last trip to meet him, looked him in the eyes. I’m here for you, and I will always be here for you. I’m not going to leave you, ever. I’m going to sit with you until the end of my days.
And that’s what we did for the next 30 minutes or so. And you should have seen the change. His face gradually relaxed. His body became less tense, more relaxed. As he stood in Sara’s arms while she sat on a low chair, he gradually relaxed into her arms. She decided to give him a little tickle, and we saw a little smirk. I told Sara, and she did it again. This time, a bigger smirk. Keep going, I said. Trying hard not to break his stoic countenance, he fought back a smile as Sara’s fingers dug into his ribs. But he was no match. The next thing we knew we saw a full-tooth smile break free, and it was as if his spirit came forth from behind a huge wall. It was cracking and crumbling. I told Sara to keep going. The wall was giving way. And then it happened. He broke free with a huge smile, and threw himself back into Sara’s embrace with complete relax and abandon. It brings tears to my eyes even as I write it.
Shortly after, I took him by the hand and we walked through the room filled with toys. He found a little pull-back car the Franks brought for their little boy, and it brought a huge smile to his face. Then the most amazing thing happened. The most miraculous change came over him, and for the first time we truly saw Misha. He started to talk to us! He ran to the window, pointing and saying something. We’re not sure what he was saying, but I picked him up and we pointed out the window together. Then he was moving quickly through the room, and we took turns launching the car back and forth to each other. Smiles and babbles.
No sooner had this all started, that his caretaker came in to take him back to his group. Our first response was “NO! Not now! We just got started!” But as he ran to his caretaker, he was all smiles. And as we said “Paca, Misha!”, he was smiling ear to ear. I knew at that moment that it was all going to be ok. If even for a few minutes, he finally got to be himself. He got to experience life in the arms of the loving family that would make him theirs. And he was happy. He was content. He was loved. If making Misha smile was the last thing I got to do on this earth, then death would greet me and find me smiling and content with my life…
JP
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
River Walk
I'm a little behind on the documentation of our trip, so this is a flashback. More to come soon...
Sunday morning we reached the hotel Krasnoyarsk, where we stayed last time we were here. To all of our surprise, we headed right past it, craning our necks and exchanging confused looks with each other. Across the river Yenesi we rolled, pulling into the parking lot of a much older, a bit more dilapidated hotel. The Tourist Hotel was the translation. No English speaking staff. No Internet or Business Center. Just a good old Russian hotel. Our home for the first five days in Krasnoyarsk, before heading to the Hotel Krasnoyarsk for the remainder of the trip. The grocery store next door was a step down from the one in Moscow next to the Marriott, but thankfully so were the prices. 4 cups of yogurt for $3.00 instead of 2 cups for $8.00. We loaded up on some food and hunkered down at the hotel for the day.
After a quick nap, Sara and I decided to take a stroll along the river just outside the hotel. What a beautiful day it was, just walking along the river and watching parents and children play on a Sunday afternoon. People are people everywhere, and I longed for my boys. The river was beautiful, except for the trash lining the shore. Those little things that you take for granted back home. Watched a young, blonde pregnant woman walking alone along the river and thought of Misha’s mom, and the unfortunate set of circumstances and choices that put her in the position to give up such a wonderful gift. How many walks like this had she taken while contemplating her situation? Why the life growing inside her wasn’t enough to motivate her to get her life together. How dire her circumstances that led her down the road she now walks. How often the innocent suffer for the sins of another. I look into Misha’s eyes and I see the eyes of the innocent, suffering by another’s choices. By God’s grace soon he’ll suffer no more…
JP
Sunday morning we reached the hotel Krasnoyarsk, where we stayed last time we were here. To all of our surprise, we headed right past it, craning our necks and exchanging confused looks with each other. Across the river Yenesi we rolled, pulling into the parking lot of a much older, a bit more dilapidated hotel. The Tourist Hotel was the translation. No English speaking staff. No Internet or Business Center. Just a good old Russian hotel. Our home for the first five days in Krasnoyarsk, before heading to the Hotel Krasnoyarsk for the remainder of the trip. The grocery store next door was a step down from the one in Moscow next to the Marriott, but thankfully so were the prices. 4 cups of yogurt for $3.00 instead of 2 cups for $8.00. We loaded up on some food and hunkered down at the hotel for the day.
After a quick nap, Sara and I decided to take a stroll along the river just outside the hotel. What a beautiful day it was, just walking along the river and watching parents and children play on a Sunday afternoon. People are people everywhere, and I longed for my boys. The river was beautiful, except for the trash lining the shore. Those little things that you take for granted back home. Watched a young, blonde pregnant woman walking alone along the river and thought of Misha’s mom, and the unfortunate set of circumstances and choices that put her in the position to give up such a wonderful gift. How many walks like this had she taken while contemplating her situation? Why the life growing inside her wasn’t enough to motivate her to get her life together. How dire her circumstances that led her down the road she now walks. How often the innocent suffer for the sins of another. I look into Misha’s eyes and I see the eyes of the innocent, suffering by another’s choices. By God’s grace soon he’ll suffer no more…
JP
The Judge said "DA!"
Sorry for the short post, but I am out of time here in the business center at the hotel. But I wanted to let everyone know that our court hearing this morning was successful! We are the official parents of Elijah Mikhail Park! We are so happy! Thank you for all your prayers and all your support. I will type up a post tonight and post it tomorrow. It will have more details. Thanks.
JP
JP
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