I am usually a stickler about bedtime...lights out, no talking. Tonight, I was about to get up and go hush the girls (with five in a room, even whispering gets a little loud). But then I decided to just sit and savor the miracle of hearing my three adopted daughters and my two foster daughters teasing each other and being silly...all in the language of their birth country. I remember like it was yesterday, tears rolling down my face as we took off from Guangzhou, China heading home to Kansas with an 8 month old baby girl on my lap and feeling the enormity of what I was doing, taking her from her homeland. I knew, and still do know, that what I had to offer her was worth the sacrifice, but at that moment I felt very profoundly what she was losing. I certainly could not imagine that 13 years later she would be back in her country, speaking her language and finding at least some of the pieces that will help her and her sisters put together the puzzle of their lives.
Well, the chattering has died down, and as usual, only the youngest is still awake. Those few minutes of whispering and laughing didn't hurt them a bit, and they did me a world of good.
Wen An (Good Night)
2 comments:
Wow. That would blow me away to have heard that! Great job, Donna.
Apparently they are picking right up where they left off!
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