“I don’t want to go back to the Baby Home.”
Today is the first day of summer break. I told the kids that I wanted to get an organized start to the summer, so we had pulled out all the toy bins and were sorting everything back where it belonged. (I know, I know, I am that kind of boring Mom….but don’t worry, they got rewarded for their hard work.)
Anyway, it was in the middle of that mess that he said it. Out of nowhere, in no context whatsoever, Johnny announced,
“I don’t want to go back to the Baby Home.”
I stopped mid-toy. I picked him up and asked, “So you want to stay here with us?”
“Yes,” he said decisively.
It was one of those moments when time stood still.
As I’ve written before, Johnny has done exceptionally well these last ten months. He is an easy-going, fun-loving, absolutely adorable child. But he still has been processing all the loss in his little four-year-old life. So anytime he saw an airplane, or pictures of Forever Angels, or anytime I would tell him, “You are my Johnny,” he would tell me, “I want to go back to the Baby Home.”
We had the same conversation a hundred times. I would explain to him that his friends aren’t at the Baby Home anymore, that they have grown up and moved away just like him, that he is with us now and that we will love him forever. He never got upset about it, but his insistence on going back never wavered.
Until today. Today, June 17th, exactly 10 months after he came home, Johnny decided that he wants to stay.
As wonderful as that is, after that, it got even better.
After this brief exchange with Johnny, I turned to my other kids and told them the good news. “Johnny just told me he doesn’t want to go back to the Baby Home! He wants to stay with us!”
Two of my children gave a whoop. They understood the significance, and did a happy dance. The third child, standing behind me, said,
“Mommy, there’s water coming out of my eyes.”
I turned and faced this child. This child, eyes bright and brimming with tears, a face full of wonder and joy.
This child.
This child is the one who, out of my four, continues to fight the demons of the past, of an orphanage history that has left the heart broken. This is the child who wrestles with fierce defensiveness, with uncontrollable emotion. This is the child who has struggled most with Johnny joining our family, who would have happily sold him on ebay, or probably even given him away for free.
I have despaired often over this child, who receives far more of my prayers than my other three, who at times seems to be so trapped in pain that it would be impossible to feel empathy towards others.
Yet this is the one who was crying. Crying with joy.
I crouched near to this child. “Oh sweetie,” I said. “Those are tears! Those are happy tears! Are you feeling happy that Johnny doesn’t want to go back to the Baby Home anymore?”
“Yes!” And a giggle.
Yes.
Yes!
I’ve got some water coming out of my eyes too.
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