Choking Up

I love writing. Educating and entertaining are my aims; the stat counter on the right is my report card. While being read is every writer’s dream, my sense of purpose and responsibility comes less from numbers and more from action my writing impels others to. Learning my words were God’s gentle prompting, helping usher a hopeless child into a family, is a thrill I’ll never outlive.

My remuneration is the sheer joy I derive from pounding out clarion calls. A few months ago I wrote about a mom from my March 2008 trip, struggling to raise funds for fourteen-year-old Inna’s adoption. (Struggling, 2/2/09) A lady who works part-time as a tax preparer read Inna’s story, called me, and offered an entire week’s salary to help get Inna home. Knowing my writing prompted this generosity from one who felt the donation’s pinch was as good as having been paid myself.

February’s first post featured Ekaterina, a girl with aspirations of being a chef. (Marching On, 2/2/09) One of the kids on March’s Grand Rapids trip, she was in imminent need of a family before her birthday. After seeing the post and photo, a dear Oklahoman was led to host her in Michigan. Yearning to be in a family rather than on the street, Ekaterina yesterday opined to a babushka that nobody wants a fifteen-year-old. For dinner tonight Ekaterina baked chicken but ate crow when my friends asked her to be their daughter. She joyfully consented amidst tears and hugs, asking the translator, “Do they really want me?! Do they like me?!” Being wrong never felt so good.

Less satisfying are the blog hits from Monday and Tuesday. After my post about Nikolai, his best friend Sergei’s new parents forwarded the link to everyone on their e-mail lists, straining to find the family God has chosen. Monday, the day I posted Nikolai’s story, my blog set its record for daily traffic; Tuesday, it was dramatically eclipsed, doubling Monday’s short-lived benchmark. Flushed prematurely with pride in the numbers, the less gratifying reality was no resultant calls. Sergei’s dad confided he was severely choked up reading Nikolai’s post, adding, “If I’m any kind of a good dad at all, I need to be able to tell my son that I did my best to help find his best friend a family…” I repaid the compliment by choking up at the sentiment, the effort, and the lack of response roused by our college try.

Today I conversed with a caller, adopted herself at an older age, about a child I worried might be especially difficult to place. At the close of our discussion, she offered the most heartfelt thanks I’d ever received. Thanking me for what I do for kids, she said that someone adopting her when she was older “made an eternal difference,” adding, “I am where I am today because someone did it for me.”

Pondering this profundity, and trusting Nikolai might one day echo it, I resolved to fight on in faith to make this his testimony, too.

And talk about choking up...

Get Ready, Grand Rapids!

Arriving Friday, March 27, in Grand Rapids:

Cheery Lima, eleven, is called “the sunshine girl” at her orphanage. This upcoming Saturday afternoon she fulfills her dream of seeing her biological sister Lisa who was adopted in America five years ago. Lisa has been asking everyone she meets if they would adopt her sister. Because Lima loves to help people, she hopes to be a doctor.

Anton, eleven, loves dogs and cats. His teacher says he is one of the best students in his fifth grade class. His favorite subjects are math and physical education. He is very athletic and enjoys basketball, volleyball, and soccer. He wants a brother, sister, mom, and dad.

Denis E., nine, likes school and would like to be a teacher so he could teach kids to be good. He likes math because he can solve problems. He likes cows, chickens, and geese, and would like to have a dog to protect his home and a cat to protect his home from mice.

Denis L., thirteen, dreams of being a “train driver” some day. He likes winter and skiing, eats hamburgers and pie, and believes in God since some kind soul has taken him to church. He was on an August trip to Wisconsin. His orphanage director says he goes to her office every single day asking when he can go to America again to find his family.

Dmitry, nine, is in second grade, where he is earning good marks. He likes to draw, play soccer, and play with his many friends. He likes to eat meat and rolls. He would like a career as a builder. Dmitri would like to have a family.

Maya, twelve, is in fourth grade, where she enjoys math because she thinks it’s interesting to solve problems. She has a good sense of humor. She would like to be a cook when she is older. Her mother died, so Maya would like a new mother. The new mother should be kind, and Maya will be kind to her also. She dreams of having a family which also includes a kind father.

Quiet Nikolai, newly fourteen, was in Oklahoma in January, but didn’t find his family there. This trip, his host family lives across the street from his best friend from the orphanage, a boy who just arrived home in Michigan in December 2008. Nikolai would like to be a builder.

Ekaterina, fifteen, loves to cook and aspires to be a chef working in her own restaurant, specializing in typical cuisine from around the world. She is in critical need of a family; she will be unable to enter the United States on an orphan’s immigrant visa once she reaches her sixteenth birthday in early November.

Vladimir, nine, loves homework and calls English one of his favorite subjects. Vladimir won my heart when he sang his best-loved song, “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” in adorable Russian-accented English in a precious interview he gave.