Goodbyes and Good night...

There were no tears.  There were no long, sad faces.

Not, at least, on A's face.  Some of us older ones might have had a moist eye or two.

But A.. he was a rock star.  He simply asked when he would get to see V again! (Spring, at the latest).  I knew it was there, but I now see more clearly the bond between them... like brothers.  He went around and hugged each member of his family with real affection, and even humor.  He did not shut down, or bury his face.  He even smiled for the pictures.  He listened with warmth and respect as first Valary and then Sveta spoke quietly with him in a language I don't understand, but am gaining a real fondness for (after all, it's the language that our fourth child grew up hearing and speaking).  He listened and smiled and hugged, but he didn't cling.  And then he bravely, strongly, walked to me and took my hand.  And together we walked out the big green metal door that separates the oasis of his orphanage from the rest of the world.

And now we're home,  Well, a temporary home in Ukraine.....  And he's asleep.  I was prepared for tears, prepared to comfort him... but what I got was silly faces, and laughter, and conversation, and... joy!  Wow!  That he is capable of joy on a day like today - even with the kind of life he has had so far - is a testimony to the love of the Father, the God of orphans, and to the love of his temporary family  (both of whom I hugged again fiercely today).  The tears may come at some point.  It's ok.  I think he knows we love him, and we have certainly told him so.

After a hearty dinner of soup and shashlick, A got cleaned up and in his cozy PJs.  And we sat together on his sofa bed, and read Bible stories.  Ok. Well, I started to read them from my New King James version, and then realized that I needed to paraphrase with words he understood.  So, I told him about David and Goliath, which he knew, but now heard it in English for the first time.  Then we got out his new Ukrainian Bible that one of the teachers had given him yesterday.  It had pictures.  In fact, I even recognized the pictures, from somewhere in my childhood.  And we found David and Goliath, and he re-told the story to me with gestures and small English words.  Wow!  Then we flipped ahead to Jonah. He understood.

And then... he found Jesus.  And we talked about Him.  How He was "very good". How He was God's son.  And the pictures showed Him being betrayed, and tried, and crucified.  Andrew knew all this, so I asked him what happened next.  His little face lit up, but he couldn't find the words (and who can blame him) to explain the Resurrection; he even tried gestures, but that didn't work. Finally, he said "papa" and pointed to the Bible we had been looking at, and he reached to turn the next page - to show me what happened next.  There was the angel sitting on the stone rolled away from the tomb, and then there was Jesus - alive!  And he said "see!"  I hugged our son. I had goosesbumps.  The Father of the fatherless has been revealing Truth to one of His little ones!

Now he's asleep.   And I hear his soft breathing, ten feet away on the sofa-bed.  I remember quietly going next to the crib when each of our first three were newborn bundles, and just listening to them breathe, and being filled with the wonder of it all.  And here I am again.  A memory I will never forget.  Thank you Jesus - for our son.

Goodnight.