A Mustard Seed for Tonya

Karina at home, now 18

A true-blue friend of our program asked recently about Tonya, a girl her daughter Karina recalled from her orphanage days.  In the years since Karina had been home, she’d thought about Tonya many times, dreamed about her even, left behind at an orphanage Karina knew too well.  Karina thought Tonya had been on a previous Lighthouse Project trip to America, though I doubted that, since I could recall no child by the name she offered.

Two days shy of her 15^th birthday, official word arrived that Tonya was still orphaned, and waiting.  While I held out little hope of an eleventh-hour match, I wouldn’t say no to our friend.  As Karina and her mom started praying and sharing, imploring fellow church members to cry to the Lord for Tonya, I began to wonder if a family might yet find her.

Having heard the girl’s name only as a nickname for Tatyana, I was surprised to discover when her documents arrived that Tonya’s real name was Antonina.  Nothing at all in her background inspired confidence, but as I shared her story with our friend, she remained unfazed.  Karina was “storming the gates of Heaven,” she assured, as if finding a family was as easy as praying with sufficient faith.
 

Tonya, 15

A week later I revisited Tonya’s documents, staring at her name and pondering its rarity.  After years of work with Russian kids, my only previous encounter with the name Antonina was when an eight-year-old traveled to Michigan in 2006, back when our program still brought children to America.  Mulling this, I calculated: A girl eight then could be a teenager 15 in late 2012.  Finally a question gripped me.  Could Karina’s friend have languished since the 2006 trip? Tonya’s current photo, grainy and stern, provided few clues, as despite having coordinated that long-ago program, I’d hardly even seen the young Antonina.

Ages ago, our director Hope had asked me to coordinate that Michigan trip.  Desperately committed as I was to the Lighthouse Project, the idea was ridiculous, as we expected any day the call for court in Russia to adopt our own kids.  Hope never takes no easily, though, and she badgered me until I acquiesced just to silence her.  I did my duty, finding host families for the kids, but as I’d feared, the children arrived and departed the U.S. during the 26 days we stayed in Russia.  I might never have seen the Lighthouse children at all but for our last morning in Moscow, while at the airport waiting to fly home we saw the kids returning from America.  Waving to them through the glass, in that scant moment I glimpsed Antonina.
 

Antonina, 8

During our just-home blur of adjustment, I heard little about the trip which had transpired in my absence, except that Antonina was among those who’d found no family. Never having met her, forgetting her was painless enough; while she crossed my mind occasionally, she never prompted action.  Finally, I moved on.
 

And on. And on, until six years passed.

Tweet below to help Tonya find her family!
 

Karina, too, had been home awhile before she felt God’s gentle nudge to tell her mom about the girl she’d met when they were both young enough to be in the baby house together. Karina, three years older, left the baby house first, but their paths kept merging as they were shuffled around to various orphanages.  When Karina returned from her own Lighthouse Project trip in 2008 with a Bible, she pored over its pages, reading its words of life aloud to Tonya, who sometimes asked questions. But once Karina was adopted, thoughts of Tonya ceased for two full years.

Now on the phone Karina was stressing to me the urgency, sensing Tonya’s danger. “The orphanage is not a safe place,” she insisted, adding Tonya has no family with whom to build a relationship, and does not know the Lord. She opined with great certitude that Tonya’s new parents would “love her very much,” as that had been her experience with her own adoptive family.

Love's new photo of Tonya,
 taken in mid-September

Moved by Karina’s entreaties, a couple decided to join our upcoming November trip to meet Tonya. But the next morning bore crushing news that after umpteen years in an orphanage, Tonya had been snatched for foster care the previous day.  Sixteenth birthdays mark the beginning of a downward spiral for most kids in foster care: government checks stop arriving for foster families, the families stop “caring,” and children become ineligible for international adoption. When I called my friend, devastated, she shrugged the news off, since she’d warned Karina numerous times to expect trials throughout the process. Calling this only the first of several obstacles the Lord would eventually remove, she urged me to persevere and expect Tonya’s release from foster care before the trip.

The next few weeks were punctuated with the downs and ups our friend predicted. Tonya’s hosts changed their minds and decided not to travel in November.  Then our Russian coordinator Love visited the region, finding the girl in the orphanage, not foster care.  Better photos secured, Love returned bubbling with the news that Karina’s Tonya was our Antonina from Michigan 2006. Having suffered in a wretched orphanage, courting a sordid future had not our program's dearest friend intervened, Tonya retained hope of a family.  

Karina, exulting in her new life, heart brimming with compassion, wrestles mightily in prayer for Tonya’s welfare and soul.  “God wants her here for a reason,” she told me earnestly. “Other people are praying about her. I think it will go well.” Thus believing, Karina shamed me with her grand vision of Tonya yet reveling in the love of new parents.
 

Tonya, Antonina that is, has been alone forever. Time dwindles dangerously, but an erstwhile orphan clinging to faith the size of a mustard seed prays in steadfast expectation that this mountain will move a smidgeon.
 

Move just enough to let her oldest friend be as blessed as she has been.
 

He [Jesus] said to them, “Because of your little faith. For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.” (Matthew 17:20, English Standard Version)

Click here to Tweet, and help Tonya find her family while she still has time!

*****

You can visit Tonya in Russia November 9-16, 2012, with our welcoming group of American travelers. She would love a chance at a family! Is God calling you? Call Becky! You can reach her at (616) 245-3216. Time is of the essence.

 

Peppered With Joy

Alexei in his orphanage

Tammy and her husband were childless and interested in adoption, but had never really considered the adoption of an older child. She traveled with an early Reverse Lighthouse Project trip to Moscow, where she fell in love with 12-year-old Alexei.  After a rather circuitous adoption process, they welcomed Alexei home in 2011.  In mid-February 2012, Tammy spoke with me, bubbling about life with their new son.

It is important to note that while we are delighted that this has been a very joyous adoption, and we here at the Lighthouse Project always hope, pray, and work toward such positive outcomes, we also recognize that many adoptions of older children will have substantially more difficulties than this family has experienced.

Russian Orphan Lighthouse Project (LH):  How did you and your husband come to adopt an older boy from Russia when you were looking at a younger girl from China?

Tammy: We were scanning the entire world for orphans and their plight, and spending lots of time in prayer. Your blog just happened to be one of our nesting grounds. You posted a kiddo with an “I’m a Pepper” t-shirt on the very same day I was on the edge of attending a Lighthouse Project trip (Peppered With Love, 9/28/09). Not for adoption, of course, as I had no clue where our kiddo would come from!

I went to a women’s conference to drop off CDs. My friend pushed me to stay. Wrestling with this decision to go to Russia or not, I sat in the red velvet church pew, kind of praying and listening, but not all there. I whispered, "Well, God, I will go to Russia, but I am not sure why You would really plan an adoption in the most expensive, unfamiliar, and barely pleasant country.” Remember, I had been to 13 different countries, so in my all-knowing brain I was sure our little seed from heaven would be from one of "those countries." At the moment I finished my half-hearted prayer with a promise, I did the worst thing: I asked for a sign from God for confirmation.  My friend’s little girl tapped me on the shoulder and gave me a can cooler to hang onto. It said, "I’m a Pepper."

Then in Russia I met Alexei. I put gloves on his hands, and he looked at me with those big blue eyes, and I didn't see an older child at all or an orphan, I just saw my son. Age was just a number.

LH: Did you have any fears before your adoption which actually came true?

Alexei meets a friend's baby

Tammy: I worried about him being homesick. It has happened twice since he’s been home.  He’s not inconsolable, but he’ll want us to be close.  He just cries, then gets over it. I worried he’d miss his culture and country, and it has come true. It hasn’t been terrible, but I feared him being sad even once, and he was.

LH: What challenges did you face when you brought Alexei home?

Tammy: The biggest was communication right away at deeper level. I think he would say that, too, being an older child and knowing his language.  Then coming here, and language learning has to start all over again.  Since communication does have to come slowly, it gives time for relationship to build slowly and naturally, so that was good.  But we wanted to comfort him with words, and we just had to hold him, or cook something we thought might comfort him. We really haven’t had other challenges.

LH: Communication is a common concern of pre-adoptive families, but our staff frequently thinks language is lower on the list of challenges, as compared to some of the behavioral issues older kids can come with. Is your thought on communication being your biggest challenge a reflection of the level of difficulty not sharing a language caused, or a reflection on the ease of your overall adoption?
 

Alexei and his dad

Tammy: From day one he has been easy to comfort.  He does not do a lot of negotiating, just does what he needs to do. At about four months we were able to make jokes and laugh about the same things and understand things together. There were no other challenges that we have had, so I think it’s more a reflection on the ease of our adoption.

LH: How did you handle the language challenge?

Tammy: I prayed a lot, prayed a lot to deal with it.  We tried to learn Russian and tried to use it, so he would understand we were trying. It was really just a challenge because we wanted to know him better, and know him faster. We needed to talk to do that, but we couldn’t do it right away. It wasn’t bad, but you have to be really patient, you have to be creative.  We were playing board games, reading the Bible in two different languages.  If he looked low or sad, we would leave and go on vacation or play a game or make him a different kind of food. When we were on vacation, we didn’t have to struggle to communicate as much because we weren’t on any regimen, just a relaxed and laid-back vacation. We always offered a translator, but Alexei felt more comfortable talking to a girl he knew from the orphanage who had been in America longer. Sometimes he didn’t want to do that, but sometimes having someone talk to him in Russian just put him at ease. He would talk to his Russian grandma on Skype, too. 

LH: How has the transition been compared to what you expected?

Tammy: Much easier. We took all the adoption classes, and took everything with a grain of salt, but realized maybe he’d have behavior problems, or he wouldn’t attach.  Our first two weeks home I woke up every day at 6:30 a.m., went for walk, and prayed about all my fears. When I got home I left my fears at the door, and just went in to love him and be his mom.  The classes and other adoptive families prepared us enough to make us aware of what could happen. Knowing those things, our transition was much easier than we expected.

LH:  What joys have you had?

Tammy: How long have you got?  Everything! Alexei is very affectionate, just hug, hug, pull us in and hug us. That’s the most important thing! And we have this very tall boy wanting to make sure we don’t forget to hug each other. He did not expect anything of us, and never said, “Why don’t I have this?”  He loved us for who we were.  I could see that in how he acted: he makes us cards, writes us messages, he’s willing to be open and honest, he’s not withdrawn. He was open to saying “I love you” the first day he got home, and he physically showed us he loved us from the first day. We didn’t expect that, but we got it! I did not expect his immediate acceptance of us as his parents from an older child; I expected a friendship first, but he loved us as parents. We could see it in his actions, and I loved that.

LH: What advice would you give to other families considering older child adoption?

Alexei with his dad

 Tammy:  I don’t think there is less joy and love just because they’re older; it’s so strong!  I wasn’t there the years when he was little.  But I don’t wish I knew him when he was a baby, because I just feel like he was always mine.  Don’t look at it as “I only have them a few years as compared to a baby.” That’s impossible to measure until they’re in your arms and in your home.  Alexei is no less precious because he’s older. Don’t hold back! Sometimes you expect older kids to act 14 or 15, but they might be emotionally 7 or 8. If he wants to hug in the kitchen for 10 minutes, we let him. We don’t know what he missed, and he might need that. My advice? Expect to fall in love with them! Alexei is just as precious as if we had him when he was three or four.  My friend, an adoptive mom of several older Russian kids, told me to have no expectations. People think you wouldn’t hold your son’s hand when you’re talking to him, but don’t hold back. He values his family! Don’t hold back on loving him and enjoying being his parent.  Just because he’s older does not mean he doesn’t want you to sit in his room and play with him. If he’s this affectionate, why would we hold back?

LH: What has been the most fun you’ve had together?

Tammy: Bedtime!  Every night before bed we read and pray and then start tickling.  Only two nights since we’ve been home has it not happened.  It starts in his room, then moves to ours, then back to his. It’s just a riot, it’s everything, it’s a Hallmark commercial!  Then he’ll ask random questions because he doesn’t want to go to sleep, things like, “Why in English does it say this?”  It’s the most precious time for us, and a lot of fun.

LH:  What has been the hardest thing you’ve overcome so far?

Tammy: A lot of kids say, “In Russia…”   That’s one of the big things we’ve overcome together. It wasn’t a hard thing, but after hearing it 100 times per day…  We had to learn ourselves that we don’t know what it was like in Russia. Now we don’t worry about the “In Russia…” part.  Buildings are bigger there, ice cream is better there. In the transition, you as parents realize you don’t know Russia.  It could break their spirit to act like you don’t believe it, so we had to learn patience with cultural things. We overcame being bothered by it.  We never debated it with him, but we discussed it privately.  An adoptive mom told me when they stop doing it, you’ll miss it.  It was us overcoming it.  At first we were concerned if what he was saying about Russia was true, but then we realized it was more important to support him.  Those statements showed his love for his birth country more than if they were true or not. It was never a negative thing, but it’s just how sentences would start. You should be prepared that kids are going to talk about Russia a lot, and you are going to listen.

LH: Sometimes new adoptive parents do not “feel” like a family right away. Do you feel like a real family yet?

Tammy: Yes!  Absolutely.  I don’t know what it was like before he was here; it feels like he has always been here.  He and my husband do things alike.  I think it’s pretty funny.

LH: How has your extended family accepted Alexei?

Tammy: Overwhelmingly.  We had an interesting Christmas.  Everybody just showered him with affection.  Not just gifts, but time.  They wanted to take him places and show him things.  I almost had to tell them not to forget the other kids.  It was the same thing as a baby, only they could talk to the “baby” and teach him new things.  There was ten times the involvement because they could do things with him. It has been incredible; every single person on both sides has accepted him and fallen in love with him. It’s a miracle.  Everyone adores him. He gets letters every day from cousins and nieces and nephews. I expected it, because every day we tried to get him home, it was everyone’s heart desire.  Everyone is saying, “Wow!  What a wonderful experience! I expected a nephew, but never a nephew like this!”  It’s neat to see they love him more than they even knew that they would.

LH: What have you learned through this adoption?

Tammy: Every day Alexei is translating in his head because of language and cultural differences.  Every day he gets exhausted, and you can see it in his face, but he isn’t going to take a nap because he doesn’t want to let us down. One day he was upset and tired. Finally, he laid in his bed and cried. We went to him and told him, “We love you when you’re angry and when you don’t obey us. We’re doing this because it’s important for you. A good family loves each other and is there for each other. If you could communicate with us and tell us you’re tired…”   Us coming to him when he was upset, rather than just letting him be upset, shocked him. He couldn’t believe we loved him when he was angry. But a good family loves each other and forgives each other. When a child is upset, when you’re nurturing them into this relationship, I don’t think you should let them be upset; you should talk to them and let them know you’ll be there for them if they want to talk.  Bring them back into the family when they don’t know how to reconcile.  They don’t know how to fix a situation, because in their past people just walked away. We didn’t read this, it just happened. We did not want him to think we were staying angry with him, nor did we want him to stay angry with us. 

Also, just be patient, because they ask a lot of questions. Be patient and be available.

LH: What other things have been remarkable?

Tammy:  [The day] he started calling me Mom!  He called us our first names in Russia. Our hostess told him to call us Mom and Dad, but I told him to call me whatever he wanted. I struggled with it, but my husband said it’s just a title, and since he never had a mom, maybe he doesn’t know what it is.  I prayed about it and let it go.  After a few months, I woke him up one morning. I said, “Good morning, Alexei,” and he said, “Good morning, Mom!”  I said, “Mom?!”  He said, “Yeah, you’re my mom.  I love you, Mom.”  I told him he didn’t need to give me anything for Christmas!  When my husband got home, it was the same thing for him.  My husband asked, “Is he calling you Mom?”  And I just smiled and nodded.  It took some time for him to start, but I remember the exact day because it was very special to me, and he knows how much it means to me.  We let it come natural.  If it had never come, I would not have been disappointed, because I loved him like a mom would, and he was a wonderful son.  After about two months I let it go.  He acts like a son and he loves me like a son would, and actions speak so much larger than words.  I don’t think anyone should get hung up on it.

A lot of firsts with older kids you don’t realize you’re going to have, so it’s kind of neat.  Some people think they’re missing out by adopting older, but they’re communicating the things they experience for the first time with you.  You’re sharing it! When you adopt an older child it’s a very rich experience, and a profound experience to watch them heal, and to be a part of it.  Once he made a mess with some glow-in-the-dark powder, then he realized he shouldn’t have made it at his age.  But then he put it on my face and nose and we started laughing.  He started saying, “I’m sorry!” and cleaning all up, but I thought, “What did he ever get to do before this?”  There were things that he didn’t get to experience, and it’s a delight to share them with him.  Zero expectations.

They’ll surprise you with their joy! 

***

Thank you, Tammy, for sharing a bit of your joy with us!  All of us at the Lighthouse Project are thrilled for the three of you, and we wish you continued blessings as you continue to grow closer together in the coming months and years.

Angels Will Watch Over You

Arrival in Moscow has heretofore meant navigating Sheremetyevo Airport’s dingy, tired, and cramped international terminal, but this trip our plane halts outside a building I’ve never been in. It is immaculate, modern, innovative, and expansive. If signs weren’t in Cyrillic, or if the flight attendant hadn’t welcomed us to Russia, I’d think I’d deplaned at a new airport in the United States.

The next day, I return to the airport to pick up my families. Ten are traveling, by far a record. They come on two flights, about an hour apart, so I chat with the first group as we await the second. Kate, a young girl whose parents adopted through our director Hope years ago, has read much of my blog. She reminds me of details I’ve revealed about myself in posts past, and wonders if I find it creepy she knows so much about me.

At the hotel, everyone unloads their bags. After their all-night flight, they good-naturedly vote to sightsee. Travel is my favorite hobby, and they delight me with their gameness to see a place that, despite its grittiness, has become my third-favorite city, after Grand Rapids and Venice.

The metro is the most sensible mode of transportation for us in Moscow. Before the trip I work hard to apprise the hosts of what to expect, but the metro deftly defies description. While I loathe pushiness, I warn families that boarding the metro is no time to be selfless. Still, I know that, early on, some chivalrous soul will step aside to let everyone else board ahead of them. It would be a nightmare to reconnect were we to be separated, even though we distribute Russian phones to all travelers, to be safe.

Sure enough, our first foray onto the metro, a few hold back to permit the rest of the group to meander in. When the alarm sounds to warn the door is closing, I physically stuff the person in front of me onto the train, and not a moment too soon, as the doors slam shut behind me. Beside me, an elderly lady also makes it. She smiles at us, very rare for Russians, as they believe to smile at strangers is to announce the smiler is crazy. She speaks to me in Russian, as I smile and nod. When she continues, I answer “Da!” though I haven’t any idea what she is saying. If the country is enjoying a nascent movement toward friendliness, I’d hate to squelch it. As she persists, I counter with da’s at each pause, until she finally realizes I’m not Russian. While speaking English is becoming more prevalent among the younger generation, the older the person or more menial their job, the less likely they are to know English. So the lady flabbergasts me when she abandons Russian and switches to first-rate English. “Angels will watch over you!” she declares. She asks a few questions, which I answer until the train grinds to another stop. The car is already standing-room only, and as more Muscovites shove their way aboard, the lady is swallowed by the crowd. “Angels will watch over you!” she calls as her parting benediction, slipping away.

We emerge from the metro’s tunnels just outside the Kremlin, which the group has chosen to see this trip. The world’s largest cannon, a 200-ton bell, and the official residence of the president of Russia lie within its red brick walls. While atheism was the state religion for over seventy years, this seat of Russian government also harbors five fifteenth-century cathedrals. A Russian Orthodox lady traveling with us to meet sisters finds the churches especially meaningful; watching her appreciate them blesses me, too.

After the Kremlin, we walk next door to Red Square. Two babushkas pose outside the Kremlin bell tower as a man takes their photo with a digital camera. When he shows them the result, they are so overcome with laughter they cry. I yearn to know if this is their first visit here, or their first digital photo, or if they’re just overwhelmed in this glorious place now that their land is free. It is the sweetest thing I’ve seen in Russia, and Kate snaps a few photos for the blog. How I wish I could see them laugh, to know their moment of joy is savored by others a world away!

Tomorrow morning our arms will open to the children now on their way to us. Today, though, it was our turn to be embraced, by this giant of a country. New friends from America are here, and I’ve been privileged to share with them just a few places I love in Moscow: this day embodies all that’s best about travel. Along the way, Russians we don’t know, and will likely not meet again, have shown their goodwill, and opened their hearts and the heart of their country to us.

Angels are watching over us.


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Mouths of Babes

Victoria’s smile revealed she was missing her two front teeth, and she spoke with a lisp as she answered her questioner without a hint of shyness. For a young seven-year-old, she was unusually open, sang without cajoling, and was a most engaging interview subject. The first grader likes her teacher and loves school. Russian schools value memorization of poetry, and most interviews of young children feature at least one recitation; praised by the interviewer after her first poem, Victoria clapped for herself, and launched headlong into a second. Asked about a new friend, Victoria puzzled a moment, and then confessed she didn’t remember her name. Ironically, she wore a shirt emblazoned with a drawing of an elephant and the cryptic English words, “Don’t want to forget me am an elephant.” As the interview was ending, she neatened her pigtails in preparation for photos the interviewer would take.

After Victoria’s turn, her sister Alexandra, nine, arrived back at the orphanage from school, where she’s in second grade. Asked what subjects she liked, she rattled off painting, reading, math, and Russian language without an instant’s hesitation. At her orphanage’s library, she checks out books of fairy tales. She likes watching Chip and Dale cartoons and playing. Several of the orphanages where we work have animals; Alexandra enjoys feeding the dogs and kittens at hers. She easily remembered her best friend, sister Victoria. During free time at school or the orphanage, they visit together. Alexandra added it’s her pleasure to help Victoria when she needs it. As her interviewer translated this, Alexandra smiled sweetly.

The girls arrived at the orphanage a few months ago, after their biological mother’s rights were terminated. At the court hearing which effected this deprival, their mother did not show up to contest allegations of neglect, nor did she trouble herself to inform the court that she would be absent.

As is too frequently the situation with the kids we serve, the one who should have cared most for the girls did not care enough to fight to keep them. So in an orphanage without their mother, little Alexandra does what she can to help her littler sister, only too pleased she has the chance.

*****

Alexandra and Victoria are able to travel on our November 9-15 Lighthouse Project trip to Moscow, provided they have a host family within the next few days.   For more information on the trip, these girls, or other children, please call Becky at (616) 245-3216 this week.

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Angelic

Mid-March, toward the end of recruiting, four unusually young children were added to my end-of-month Moscow trip. One of them, five-year-old Artem, came without details beyond his orphanage director’s glowing verbal report. With his age, sandy curls, and personality, his only salvation from Russian foster care was his HIV-positive status. His biological mother shared her disease, not her life, with him, and lost custody through her neglect of his medical needs.

I promoted Artem, but insufficient time, scanty information, and his diagnosis conspired against him. When I left for Russia, he was destined to travel without a host family; still, his presence provided me the opportunity to formulate an impression of him.

When the kids arrived, his small stature surprised me, though Russian orphans are generally small for their age. Artem was delightful, a standout in attitude, intelligence, attentiveness, cooperation, kindness, and industry. Cuddly too, he loved sitting on the lap of a lady who had taken a shine to him, but when it was another child’s turn, he would work diligently at different activities. Young enough to seem genuine, I never sensed his exemplary behavior was a show for the benefit of potential adoptive parents.

One day, as we presented the kids their gifts, cherubic Artem beamed, thanking me unprompted with a joy-filled, “Spaciba!” His stoop from the weight of the bagged treasures on his shoulder demanded a photo; instead, when I asked him, the little tyke with great effort straightened tall for me. Photo formalities over, he dragged his bag behind him to his room for safekeeping.

He personified persistence; on our long walks, he marched along, never complaining. With the common room a frenzy of activity, Artem worked solo on a puzzle, rotating the pieces to attempt all possibilities. Occasionally other kids flitted by to help, but never stayed. Artem showed no resentment at their late coming, or early going. Even when a girl capriciously destroyed the nearly-completed puzzle, Artem neither groused nor retaliated. He just started over.

During my days with him, I thought repeatedly that, were I to design the perfect child, Artem would result.  Yet he remained a little boy, on the lookout for puddles and whispering in ears when he had something to say.  One lady decided to pursue his adoption, though circumstances months later precluded her from proceeding, an outcome over which she shed countless tears. 

Much later, I viewed Artem’s orphanage interview. Unlike most interviewees his age, he was talkative, responding readily to questions. Asked his name, he offered his nickname, Toma. Noting he was anxious to begin school, he counted several numbers between one and ten and identified the colors of his sweater’s stripes. Queried about his hopes, he wanted a mama, a papa, and several different toy vehicles, in that order. Naming his hometown, he added he’d waited for his mother at the orphanage there and she “never, ever” came for him.

So Artem, an angel in orphan’s clothes, awaits someone else to come for him, someone whose education about his condition trumps unfounded fear and prejudice (Positive, 3/18/10). His HIV status made him an orphan.

May it not leave him one.

***

For more information on adopting HIV-positive children, please visit Project Hopeful.  Adoptive families of HIV-positive children are willing to speak to others about their experience with the condition; names and numbers will be provided.   The prognosis is much more favorable, and treatment much less involved, than most people believe.  Families interested in Artem may meet him on our November 9-15 trip to Moscow.  If you're interested in travelling with us, please call Becky at (616) 245-3216 or e-mail becky@lhproject.com.



Yuliana, Artem, and Yana



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Photos and Videos up on Facebook

Now up on Facebook: Photos and videos from our January Moscow Russian Orphan Lighthouse Project trip.  We'd love to see you in March!

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Ray of Light

Nikolai, ten, lived in foster care, helping as he could, even caring for a cow he was afraid to milk, but after three years, was returned to the orphanage. The lady he stayed with cashed government stipend checks for his care, spent years of her life with him, and took the sweet name Mama, but such considerations didn’t trump her distaste of his growing appetite, her complaint when she left him. He was disappointed and confused, though it wasn’t the first time he’d been deflated by someone he called Mama.

Faith met him in September along with another boy who’d shared his foster home; the two thought erroneously they were brothers. When Nikolai saw a woodpecker, he was overjoyed to show Faith, to whom he wanted to explain everything. He didn’t like television, preferring instead to comb the orphanage library for books he hadn’t read. The fourth grader named math, Russian, and reading his favorite subjects, and The World Around Us his favorite book. A very good student himself, Nikolai preferred smart, helpful friends obedient to their parents. The athletic boy reveled in being soccer goalie, hunted mushrooms, and aspired to be a bodyguard to keep people safe. For all the kids she meets, I had never heard Faith rave about any like she did those two. Calling them “very bright, winners, curious, really great kids, intelligent, and with very great potential,” she tied the package with her belief that both would “achieve great things.”

Nikolai visited Moscow in October with the Lighthouse Project, a ray of light on a trip where the sun itself ventured out only once. While we awaited the host families’ arrival the first day, I shared Pop Rocks with the kids; Nikolai beamed when he felt the candy convulsing in his mouth. When I washed dishes in the hotel, he tried to wrest the scrub pad from me to clean his own dishes; he seemed mortified that someone might think him irresponsible. I lost track of the times he willingly gave up his seat on bus rides. I wondered if it was genuine until, from the back of the bus, I saw him vacate his front bench as an elderly lady boarded. Down a birch-lined boulevard, spotting a squirrel, he gesticulated with such glee no one in our group had heart to mention every American yard has several. Though he oozed charm from every pore and was never without a smile, with several more children than hosts, Nikolai wasn’t chosen for adoption on his first trip.

So with just days to find hosts for kids seeking only a chance, I’m scouring the States for someone Nikolai can call “Mama” forever.

See short video of Nikolai here.

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