Stahlke Adoption

Goodbye and Hello

The day we met Mikola, we asked the orphanage director and doctor about his health, both physical and psychological. They described his personality as outgoing and friendly, but on rare occasions his mood would darken. Those times always followed the adoption of another child. He participated in the adoptee's party, accepted their goodbye, and watched them drive away in a car with their new parents. The three Huckabee children left, about a week after Jonathan and I had arrived, at a time when we all stood outside at the front of the orphanage. For a long time, Mikola stood still at the front gate, watching their taxi pull away and clenching the iron bars of the gate as hard as he could.

Last week, since the weather was nice, Jonathan and Mikola spent a great deal of time on the grounds of the orphanage. Over and over, people would greet our little boy ("Kola"), and he would respond to them by name. They would then wish him all the best with his new family, and formally say goodbye, since they might not see him on his departure day. These people were not only staff members at the orphanage; Mikola's friends also included neighbors from the houses in the vicinity of the orphanage. For many years, Mikola had greeted them by name from behind the wrought iron, reaching beyond that fence to brighten someone's day.

This morning, Jonathan received a telephone call from Masha: "Due to some needed translation work, I can't arrive until Wednesday. We will need to reschedule Mikola's pickup at the orphanage for Wednesday, not Tuesday." Jonathan told her that changing the date was not possible: "For an entire week, I've been preparing Mikola that Tuesday is the day. Can you find another translator for us?" Masha made the arrangements, and a local English teacher agreed to do the work. Jonathan then childproofed the apartment, mostly by packing suitcases, and then met one of our taxi drivers, Ihor, who had previously agreed to be on call all day. Jonathan and Ihor ran around town in the taxi, running errands but mostly buying chocolates and flowers and apple juice and bananas. Jonathan arrived at the orphanage for the late afternoon appointment. He signed reams of documents, which our lawyer gave to him and the translator explained. Then Jonathan met Mikola, who was sporting the new clothes Jonathan had previously brought for him. For the first time, Jonathan visited his living quarters, to accompany Mikola during the final goodbyes with his classmates and caretakers.

Mikola's group has approximately twenty-five children, mostly 3½ to 4½ years old. As a 5½-year-old, Mikola stands a head taller than the other children. The children his own age had left the baby orphanage over a year ago, moving four blocks away to the facility for schoolage children where our first five children lived. The director of the baby orphanage had not sent Mikola with his classmates because she knew he would be adopted soon. A double move in quick succession would be very difficult for a young child. Unfortunately, Mikola's adoption was delayed by an entire year, and he waited for what must have seemed an eternity to a little boy.

The children drank apple juice and savored their bananas, which are better than candy to them. Jonathan handed out gifts to the caretakers, and left gifts for the ones who work on a different shift. Tears were shed, for Mikola had been their child for 2½ years. Yet everyone knew that a goodbye was inevitable; if Mikola wasn't adopted, he would have moved on to the next orphanage. There is great joy among the staff members that Mikola is joining a family and being reunited with his brothers and sisters.

The children in Mikola's group then stood in a circle, and he moved slowly from one to the next. Shaking each child's hand, he spoke to them one by one to offer a goodbye: not the "Pakah" that most children say, but the formal words that adults use: "Do pobachena."

Jonathan and Mikola walked to the director's office. This kind lady cared for Mikola for 4½ years, saving him so he could join our family. She clearly loves Mikola as one of her favorites: he would often play in her office while she worked. Jonathan handed the immense bouquet of flowers to Mikola. He was so proud to thank her by giving her flowers, and then he said goodbye. Neither she nor Jonathan could hold back their tears. Jonathan told her that words could not express our thanks at all she had done to care so well for him.

Jonathan and Mikola walked out of the orphanage for the last time. I haven't heard, but I can imagine they might have petted the two orphanage cats who often sit at the door. They walked to the front gate, and this time Mikola walked through instead of watching. Two vehicles waited--Ihor's taxi and the lawyer's private car. The lawyer offered to drive Jonathan and Mikola, so Jonathan thanked Ihor and they all loaded up into the car and drove away.

The lawyer dropped off Jonathan and Mikola at the telephone store in downtown Kirovohrad. Outside the store, Mikola was entranced by the lights that draped some of the trees--he had never seen such a thing. Inside, Jonathan paid money for a telephone booth that had two receivers, so that he could translate. After settling Mikola down, who was playing with the cord on the phone, Jonathan dialed Chicago. After talking with me (more on that in a moment), I passed the phone to my mother and father. "Kola, this is grandma. I love you!" "Kola, this is grandpa. I heard you had a party today . . . ." My parents welcomed their newest grandson, and I beamed.

When I spoke with Kola, I asked how he was doing and we talked a little bit. I then told him I loved him. Then he HAD to tell me something of great import, in more ways than one:

"Mama, I rode in a CAR!!

posted by Stahlkes @ 1:28 PM