Evil into Good

Sasha found pleasure in little things.


The 14-year-old bully thought no one was looking, so he punched Sasha hard in the side of the head unprovoked.  The smaller boy, just 11, was surprised and dazed, but never retaliated. The rest of the evening, clearly rattled, Sasha shadowed any available adult; as the two oldest boys on the trip, he and the bully roomed alone.  I told chaperone Tatiana, whereupon she pulled Sasha into her room to stay with the younger children, much relieving the poor boy.  The next afternoon the bully would return to his own orphanage, but until then, we watched him like hawks.

Sasha was irresistible, the kid everyone liked. Kind, earnest, intelligent, curious, positive, and persistent, he was mesmerized by plastic birds which balanced perfectly on their hooked beaks, and he carried them everywhere.   At first, content just to balance them on his finger, he later solemnly demonstrated how they balanced as effectively on his nose or a Pixy Stix. 



Sasha balances his birds on Pixy Stix
I gave him after he spoke with me.

He got his birds the day we gave out gifts, after he’d answered our questions about his four younger siblings.  He proclaimed how he loved his brothers and sisters; then Tatiana mentioned he’d beseeched Father Frost for gifts for them last New Year’s. For Luba, 5, whose name is Russian for “love,” Sasha requested a dress worthy of a princess; for his brother Dima, 8, he asked candy.  Most noteworthy of all, he asked nothing for himself.  Father Frost rewarded the boy’s kind heart with two model cars, one of which Sasha slipped into Dima’s hands.  Inspired by this anecdote, host dad John piped up, extolling the sweetness he’d seen Sasha lavish on Petr, 5, the most trying member of our band.  Tatiana’s teenage daughter, who’d spent much time with her mother’s orphans, was with us, and heard the praise. Though she spoke at no other time, she bubbled now, judging Sasha a “remarkable person” who “differs from other children.”  

One afternoon while the kids swam, Tatiana sat down with me to talk.  She beamed when she spoke of Sasha, a very good and caring boy. His biological parents never enrolled him in school at seven as required, so when he arrived at the orphanage just over a year ago, he’d had no education beyond what he’d garnered living virtually alone with his siblings.  As the eldest, Sasha assumed responsibility for cooking, cleaning, laundering clothes, and caring for the younger children.  When a social worker discovered the little family in a wretched state, all were taken to an orphanage, where at last Sasha learned to read and write. 



Sasha back at the orphanage with three of his four siblings:
(L to R) Elena, 7; Luba, 5; Sasha, 11; and Dima, 8
Alexei, 2, is in a baby house in another town.



Tatiana called Dima active and physically on-target, a boy who likes loud games.  Industrious Elena, 7, much resembles Sasha, liking to care for younger children and play house.  Little Luba, 5, likes singing, dancing, and drawing.  Though delayed when she entered the orphanage, she has flourished there, which made me shudder to think what “home” must have been like.  Baby Alexei, 2, lives apart in the baby house, far from his siblings.

Sasha told me he sees his siblings often, though a year has passed since he’s visited Alexei.  Not answering when I asked if he knew why he lived in an orphanage, he just shook his head no. While he likes it there, he really wants a “good and kind” family. His dreams are incremental: to serve in the army, then to attend university, then to get married to someone he has not yet chosen.  When I wondered what he would change about the world, a question which stumped some older children, he reckoned he’d turn evil into good.  Knowing his sad past, and witnessing the thoughtfulness he so willingly displayed, I thought he was changing the world already.

Click to tweet below, and help Sasha and his siblings find their way home.



I promised Luba, Elena, and Dima a kiss to
 get them to smile for this adorable photo!



At the end of the week when we dropped the kids off at their orphanage, Sasha stayed only a few minutes before he was whisked back to his summer camp.  His younger siblings remained behind, so Sasha entrusted several trinkets from his bag of gifts to them.  I interviewed Dima, Elena, and Luba individually in a room depressingly crammed with 14 little beds.  My gentlest queries brought Luba close to tears, so I called Dima and Elena in to sit beside her.



Luba, 5, took this photo of Dima, Elena, and me.



Asking them to show me their beds finally broke the ice with Luba.  The three leapt to their feet, proudly showing something that felt like theirs, as Dima boasted his was most comfortable.  Teaming up to hide behind a headboard, they bounced up with a roar when I pretended not to see them.   Luba jumped on her bed, then skipped for me.  I taught them “bye-bye” before quizzing them on their English knowledge, which they found hilarious. I asked them to smile together for a photo, but they were laughing too hard.  Only when I promised each a kiss did I get my smiles; I was charmed by how grand a reward they thought the offer.  When I volunteered the use of my camera in exchange for their kiss on my cheek, the non-photographers rushed to pose next to me.  Reviewing the resultant photos later, I chuckled to find the five-year-old had taken the most respectable photo. 

When the clock demanded we catch our train to Moscow, it pained me to leave such a joyful group. As I waved goodbye, the kids merrily charged at me for one last hug and kiss. I never saw baby Alexei, and I departed wishing he could grow up with his siblings.

Being a fivesome will handicap the children in our quest to find them adoptive parents. So for now, this darling quintet is headed by a big-hearted eleven-year-old. And when he returns from camp, he’ll surely show Dima, Elena, and Luba how to balance the birds he got from American friends. Then he’ll wait in hope for a good and kind family to share with them all.

Click here to tweet about Sasha, Dima, Elena, Luba, and Alexei.

*****

Sasha relaxing in the van on our
way back to his orphanage.

If you would like to meet Sasha and his siblings, travel with us to Russia this November 9-16! And now, when you travel to Russia with the Russian Orphan Lighthouse Project, you can bring a friend along with you for free! You and your friend will explore the sights of Moscow, encourage adoptable orphans, and visit an orphanage to deliver donated humanitarian aid like bikes and toys. As always, you'll also enjoy a scenic trek by train through the Russian countryside, experience Russian-style hospitality at a retreat set up perfectly for our visits, and ponder the fascinating mysteries of post-Soviet culture. And if the jaunt’s not already sweet enough, now you’ll make a difference, times two! For more information call Becky at (616) 245-3216, or e-mail becky@lhproject.com.

Liza and Nikita

Nikita and Liza

Love, our Russian coordinator, was on the other end of the phone, imploring me for my opinion of Liza and Nikita, siblings she’d taken a shine to the first time she’d seen them.  She was giddy as she waited for me to know and love them, and then find them their family.

But nine-year-old Liza was coughing with a vengeance, miserable when we met. After a lengthy nap the first afternoon she awoke with a fever, so chaperone Svetlana was delighted to find I’d brought a suitcase crammed with acetaminophen bottles to donate to the orphanages. Though Liza declared swimming her favorite pastime, she was subdued even in the pool, and the rest of the week Svetlana kept her out. 

Nikita, 7, was a thankful little boy, lisping heartfelt spaciba’s whenever I gave him anything, the only child who never needed reminders. The first evening, when I played Bingo with the kids, he stood watching beside me until I lifted him onto my lap to play my card. As he found the numbers, I praised him; he reciprocated with a tight hug, kiss, and proclamation of his love.

Liza plays checkers while humming a song.

The next morning, as Liza played checkers alone on the floor, she hummed a little song, something Svetlana explained she did frequently during activities. After a music teacher evaluated her abilities, her musical talent was recognized. But aside from the humming and hacking, Liza remained silent on the trip, making herself a challenging interviewee, which I attributed to her illness. Despite asking many questions, I gleaned only that she liked school, reading, and painting; that she saw Nikita often, enjoyed playing with him, and thought him “naughty”; and that she dreamed of having a cat. 

Nikita was less hesitant to speak, confiding that while they sometimes fought, he knew Liza loved him, and he appreciated her kindness and frequent visits. He liked soccer, puzzles, cartoons, and kittens, and said he aspired to be a pilot someday. But he hadn’t forgotten the hard times, foraging at a garden for corn when the cupboards were empty at home. Having endured substantial neglect, a year ago the kids arrived at the orphanage, where the caretakers had devoted much time to teaching them skills they hadn’t learned.  

Nikita enjoying his glow "bracelets"

Click to Tweet below, and be a part of finding Liza and Nikita's mom and dad.

For her part, Liza liked her new home and its kind caretakers. As the caretaker for Liza’s group, Svetlana knew her well, describing her as shy but affectionate, and a “very good girl” esteemed for her tenderness. At New Year’s, children penned letters to Father Frost, a Russian Santa figure. While some children disbelieved and refused to write, with Svetlana’s encouragement Liza petitioned him for a beautiful dress. Through the generosity of orphanage sponsors, her wish was granted, and she swelled with pride in her new finery. Svetlana smiled as she savored the memory.

Nikita was also well-liked at the orphanage for his thoughtfulness, Svetlana added. He was a typical boy, “emotional, playful, energetic, and curious.” While still managing to listen and obey, on group nature walks he’d make time for everything, caring for a dog or noticing a car entering the grounds in between the required observations of sundry bugs or leaves.

As the week closed, Nikita showed glimpses of that winsome personality, but poor Liza never felt well enough. And after all of Love's hope, I was left with little beyond a recollection of Liza's misery, and a lament they hadn't had a real chance to shine.

Click to Tweet here, and help Liza and Nikita find their family.

Don't miss your chance to meet Liza and Nikita and other older Russian orphans as our welcoming group of American families travels together to their region of Russia July 9-16.  This trip could change your life, and theirs!  Call (616) 245-3216.

Everything

Daniil celebrates his Uno victory.

Daniil, 8, trotted ahead of our group to open the door for us; an older boy had done it the first day, and Daniil wanted to help, too.  He was anxious to please, and took a sweet delight at being acknowledged.

While several kids had to be pried from the TV during the trip, Daniil joined willingly in hands of Uno with Derek, a host dad, reacting with jubilation when he won.   His favorite pastime was playing games, he said.  Svetlana, his orphanage chaperone, echoed this, mentioning he excelled at logic puzzles and learning game rules.  She noted that rather than watching television at the orphanage, Daniil would frequently toil at organizing games and goading all the kids into participating.   

At interview time, I prefaced my questions to him with, “We have a nice little boy to talk to.”  It was evident the moment he understood my compliment because a shy, but pleased, smile brightened his face.   Introducing himself in a whisper, he spoke louder when encouraged.  Though I knew he had been institutionalized at seven months when, because of neglect, his biological mother was deprived of her rights, Daniil knew nothing of how long, or why, he’d languished there.  He wanted a family, while having no guess as to what it such a life would offer. Paradoxically, he liked his orphanage, everything about it.  I probed further, confident there was something he didn’t like; I was wrong.  “I like everything!” he insisted.

Daniil at his orphanage, taken by
one of our adoptive families
during their recent visit

Svetlana labeled him “a mathematician,” ahead of his peers in both math and reading.  Daniil outlined his school day as five or six lessons, all enjoyed, with math favored for the opportunity it presented to draw straight lines with rulers.  After class, he returned hungry to the orphanage for lunch.  Children with families, not orphans, ate at school he said, explaining matter-of-factly, “If we do, we must pay.”  He didn’t seem aggrieved by the inequity as he related an anecdote about Sasha, an orphan I knew from two previous trips, who once had the audacity to enter the lunchroom with the home kids.  The workers gave him a pastry and shooed him out. 

I wondered how Daniil would describe himself, and was surprised when he chose “weak.”  Then he clarified Sasha would beat him up, and he couldn’t “overcome” him. 

Visiting Daniil’s orphanage shortly before our Lighthouse Project trip, a recent adoptive family noticed that, unlike Sasha and the other boys who bounced around hyperactively, Daniil paid exquisite attention to the proceedings between the adults.  Invited to throw a football with the new father, he jumped in, playing respectfully and not emulating Sasha, who threw with vengeance. After departing, our family wrote me promptly with their impression of Daniil as an unusually well-mannered boy.

Help Daniil find his family! Click to Tweet this below.

Daniil likely shared his bracelet with this precious boy.

Svetlana praised Daniil’s affection and big-heartedness, citing how at New Year’s, when children receive candy from Father Frost, he would share his sweets unsolicited until nothing was left. One morning I presented the two girls staying with me glow bracelets as they woke up.  When Daniil stopped by to say good morning, he saw the girls’ bracelets.  He didn’t ask, but I gave him a red bracelet, which brought a broad smile of appreciation.  That evening, reviewing photos I’d taken throughout the day, I noticed another boy wearing the red bracelet, though the only children I’d yet given bracelets to were the two girls, and Daniil. Initially upset at the other boy for stealing Daniil’s bracelet, I suddenly remembered Svetlana’s accolades, and realized the red band around another’s wrist was more likely a reflection of Daniil’s kindness than the other boy’s treachery.

Daniil nearly always had a smile during our trip.

Noting Daniil’s persistence in seeking help until his needs were met, Svetlana said he needed and liked individual attention immensely, and remembered how as a young boy, he’d “tortured” caretakers with questions.  I esteem Svetlana as an exceptionally attentive caretaker, but her words encapsulated why kids need families, not orphanages.  While most parents would foster such a little boy’s curiosity, to those only paid to care the natural questions young Daniil vocalized were a nuisance to be borne.   And his desire for individual attention was recognized not as a universal need in childhood, but a quirky oddity, warranting comment.

Daniil couldn't stop smiling
at the pool.

At the end of our visit Daniil returned to his orphanage, to Sasha and the other boys who sit entranced before the television.  There he waits, persistently organizing his games, inquiring about his world, and craving acknowledgment. 

Most likely, he’s smiling.  After all, he likes everything.

*****

Help Daniil find his family! Click to Tweet this now.

Visit Daniil and other adoptable Russian orphans in Russia with our welcoming group of American travelers July 9-16, 2012.  For more information, contact Becky at (616) 245-3216 or becky@lhproject.com.