I go to the orphanage several times every week. Each time I go, I prepare myself to let go of my expectations for what will or will not happen. The orphanage is the kind of place that is always the same and yet somehow so unpredictable. I never know when I’ll discover a new child living there, or a new rule or routine, or a nanny who is uncharacteristically kind or grumpy that particular day. I have to go without expectations and take each day at a time. For those of you who have followed my journey for a long time, you know the struggles that I have encountered with this orphanage: limited visiting hours, distrusting staff, governmental red tape, lack of cooperation, no openness to change, and so on. It takes supernatural (literally) perseverance to keep on keeping on in the face of such discouragement. But then every once in a while, our kind Father gives me a glimpse into what He’s up to. Last Wednesday was one of those days.
“It’s been exactly one year today since Josiah-now-Jay was adopted!” “Wow, really? We’ve seen pictures of him, he looks so tall now and his skin is so much darker! Why do they let him play out in the sun so much?” (It’s a common concern for Chinese parents and nannies to not want their children’s skin to be touched by the sun.) “American families believe the sun is good for children.” “Does he still speak Chinese?” “No, he only speaks English now! Although he does remember how to say 我妈妈!” (…Josiah’s name for his favorite nanny.) My phone started ringing. It was Josiah-now-Jay himself video calling! I answered, and the young nannies nearly fell over when they saw him on the screen. Everyone started talking to each other at once, and it was a little chaotic. But the nannies were so pleased to see him doing well and growing up. The two nannies and I talked for a couple hours as we played with babies, and pretty soon I was ready to start my therapy session with Hannah. They asked how it was going (that never happens) and asked if they could come and watch how I do it (I had to pick my jaw up off the floor). They came and watched me for twenty minutes, asking questions about all my supplies, making suggestions, watching me intently, and saying several times, “She can do that?!” Never before had any of the nannies shown interest or acceptance for my therapy methods. I could barely believe what was happening.
I stayed later than usual, well past visiting hours, because the gate guard never came to tell me I had to leave. To top off an already encouraging day, on my way out I was walking by the staff all eating lunch together. They pulled me over to their table and invited me to eat with them. We ate and chatted and laughed together… and all the while, I couldn’t escape the feeling that this moment was very significant. I walked away that day with renewed perseverance and purpose, thanking my Father for His kindness.
3 Comments
Max's story began before I knew him. From the moment he was born, his Down Syndrome defined him. He was likely abandoned because of it, even if he had loving and hopeful parents. The stigma of disabilities is high in China, and children with special needs are considered a burden rather than a blessing. Even with parents who love them, children with special needs are expensive, will likely never go to school, never get married, never be able to go in public alone. Max's life was a struggle from the start... taking on the rejection of his birth parents... being passed around from department to department and facility to facility before settling at the local orphanage... learning that crying wouldn't get him anything in a room full of other children who also needed to be changed and fed... figuring out the pecking order among a group of children who are all fending and fighting for themselves...
The Max I see today is funny and fun-loving. The first game he ever played with me was hide-and-seek... and it was his own idea. I still remember his sneaky grin peeking around the corner at me, daring me to come and chase him down. If there are bubbles, or balloons, or markers, or musical instruments in sight, he is all over it. Somehow, he even makes brushing his teeth look fun. The Max I see today is smart and determined. For the first 10 years of his life, Max had never set foot in a school or read a single Chinese character. No one had ever given him the opportunity to go to school, likely because his verbal communication skills developed much slower than other children. But this kid blew my mind last year when I heard he begged his nanny to let him go to school with the other kids. They let him try it for a month, sure that he would change his mind once things got hard. Now months later, he's still going strong and learning so fast. No more is Max defined by his disability. He has made a name and a place and a voice for himself that is beyond what we ever expected. Keep it up, little man. You're going to do amazingly great things in this world.
|
A note from Rebekah...If you've ever wondered what it would be like to start a nonprofit from the ground up, to open a home for ORPHANS with special needs in Asia, you've come to the right place. Archives
August 2019
Categories
All
|