The New Chapter Begins...

Wow...

I've thought about how I would open this post for over three weeks and honestly, that's the only appropriate (and PG-Rated) word my crispy inner-skull, which used to be my brain can come up with.  One would think that with all of the 'spare time' we've had over the last four weeks I'd been able to do so much better.....HA!  That's a laugh.

DISCLAIMER:  I want to be very clear so there are no misunderstandings - At no point during the last four weeks were any children screamed at, shaken violently, duct taped to their bed, or given heavy equine sedatives.  No, none of those things actually happened - I can't in good conscious say they weren't thought about or even seriously considered - but for the record, none of it happened.  First and foremost, above anything else, I'm a red-necked realist who lacks the ability to sugar coat anything.  This means that during this post you're going to be exposed to the inner feelings of an extremely private soul which has been in an emotional slugging match for the last four weeks and left with gaping wounds and tender road rash still stinging from the recent violent butt-kicking.  Please don't try and psycho-analyze me or read into anything here more than what is written.  I already know I'm crazy and don't need your affirmation to realize it...but thanks anyway.  No, what you're going to realize (and what I've realized a long time ago) is that you're reading the therapy writings of a father who's in way over his head...and simply trying to deal with it, figure it out, and try to understand why he has been chosen by Him for such an daunting task.

So don't judge me...one day you may find yourself in a similar circumstance needing to violently brain puke into a blog too! (I used to tease bald and fat men - yeah...quit that a long time ago too.  Freaking Karma...)

Exactly four weeks ago we arrived home in Boise as a family of 8.  At the moment the true grandeur of it all didn't completely sink in.  Maybe it was the jetlag or the fact that we were still in what I call the 'Honeymoon Phase'.  Everyone was so excited - Mighty and Agbesi were so overcome with everything they were seeing and experiencing (more about that soon enough) and we were all so anxious to show them everything.  All of the kids were, in Agbesi's words "Beeeeeeesst Friends!"  They'd share everything, encourage each other, and were happy to follow every suggestion by Mom and Dad.  Of course, it was a little different for Brandie and me as well.  At least for the first week and possibly the first two weeks it felt like I was living in someone else's home.  It was a little awkward most moments - even though our hearts were overfilled with joy of having everyone home - there was still something 'different' than before.  I don't know if it was knowing that reality would soon set in, or if that we were waiting with bitter uneasiness once this euphoric family would finally snap and the reality of everything would be set in motion.
Brandie and I had always known we were getting in way over our pay grade with this whole adoption thing.  We’ve known for a long time that we aren’t the best parents in the world and that we really don’t know how to deal with all of the ‘other’ things that come along with a multi-national, multi-racial, multi-cultural family of 6 kids under the age of 14.  But like most big life decisions – I don’t think you can ever really know what you’re in for until you’re neck deep into it. 
I vividly remember about a week before we left for our last trip to Ghana I was lying in bed late one evening thinking about every positive experience we’d have (i.e. Christmas, graduation from school, marriage, etc) and all of the negative experiences (socking the red-neck in the nose for saying something dumb about one of the new kids, etc).  I was really trying to prepare myself emotionally for what I thought would be life after our return.  I’m sure some, if not all of these things will come to fruition at some point in the distant future, but what I’m realizing now is that I way overshot my mental/emotional preparation.  What I should have been thinking about was the little details we’d be dealing with upon our immediate return - the homesickness of the new kids for their native land and how they each deal with their loss so differently (Mighty goes into Blowup Mode – kicking, bawling uncontrollably, and not hearing anything for 30 to 45 minutes and then she’s better.  Agbesi ignores the rest of the world – won’t talk, listen or even acknowledge you’re in the room), basic family/household training (from learning how Americans view bathroom etiquette and privacy, to establishing the ‘pecking order’ of all the children, to understanding what is acceptable behavior and what is not), and establishing a routine everyone could expect and rely on.  But then again – how do you prepare for something you really can’t know about until you’ve been there?
The first week home was actually fun.  There were so many new things that it was really entertaining for Brandie and me to watch and listen.  We arrived back home on a Tuesday and knew the kids would all be hurting from the long journey so we kept them all home from school Wednesday to recuperate.  The day was spent relaxing and playing show and tell.  On Thursday all of the kids had to return to school.  This was the first real eye opener for us.  Brandie was home with the two kids by herself and realized that it wasn’t going to be like the rest of our kids.  See, we’ve really become spoiled by our other four kids because we’ve grown up together – they know what to expect and what the routine is.  When you’re home from school you make sure homework and chores are done then you can do any array of things: play Wii, go outside on the bikes, go for a walk around the lake, make a bow and arrow and try to shoot the neighbor’s cats – all sorts of fun things.  But when you haven’t grown up entertaining yourself – you really don’t know how to keep yourself entertained.  That’s where Mom and Dad come in…and boy were we not ready for that.
I remember coming home that first day Brandie was home alone with them all day.  As I walked through the door it was all I could do not to giggle as she turned and looked at me.  It reminded me of the scenes in a movie where the babysitter is completely outgunned by the rowdy kids – hair all messed up, flour on the face, house a wreck – and the parents walk back in unexpectedly.  You know the look I’m talking about.  Well, that was the one on Brandie’s face…and her eyes were begging me for help.  It made me laugh, but scared the heck out of me at the same time because I know Brandie is super capable and loving.  If SHE had that look on her face, what was I going to do??
The first two weeks were Hell, honestly.  Again, I don’t know how to sugar coat anything.  Agbesi was pretty easy for the most part.  The issues we had with him were just 5 year old boy stuff…nothing different than what we deal with Gage or the other boys.  Mighty was much more vocal about her struggles and problems.  She would pout, grumble, yell at the other kids, ignore Brandie and me, and have her patented Blowups about every third day – like clockwork.  It was draining us physically and emotionally.  Spiritually, we prayed more collectively than ever before but wondered if there was some sort of kryptonite on the ceiling preventing the prayers from getting through the roof.  By bedtime (8:30) we were both exhausted.  After we said family prayer and wrestled all of the kiddos into bed we’d both slowly drag our feet down the long hall to our bedroom and like a snake slither into bed.  We didn’t talk much about our feelings or the happenings of the day because by the time we were both in bed, one of us was already asleep.  It was taxing our marriage and friendship.
Now, I don’t want to paint everything as doom and gloom.  There were several highlights during these first two weeks, but certainly the overtone was that of extreme exhaustion and fear of being vastly unqualified for what we’d taken on. 
I remember talking with one of my best buddies about this time.  He and I had several conversations during the adoption process so he knew the reasons for us doing what we did.  He asked me, “Knowing now what you know about how hard this would be – if you could go back, would you still do it?”  Most people would have probably been offended by the question, but I knew where his heart was in asking so I just took a couple of seconds to collect my thoughts.  Here was my answer:
“You know <friend’s name>, I didn’t want to do this in the first place.  It wasn’t something that I woke up one day and said, ‘Ya know, it’d be really cool to adopt a couple of kids from a different country’ or ‘I think I’d like to have 6 kids.’  No, this was unquestionably something God wanted for our family.  He knew we were not complete without Mighty and Agbesi.  So let me ask you something – ‘If God came to you and asked you to do something you really had no prior affinity for doing – would you argue or would you just do it?’”  Of course my friend said he’d do it.  So, would I do it again – of course I would.  One, for obedience – but after going through everything we’ve gone through I’d do it again in a heartbeat because now we’re complete.  We’ve been blessed more as a family in the last two years – and even the last four weeks – than we’d ever been in the decade before.  We love these two kids just they’d been part of our family from day one.
But that doesn’t change the fact that it has been hard…really hard.  Everyone has had to adjust – including, and especially the four ‘vanilla’ kids.  Brandie and I have had to pay special attention to how they’re doing and react to the cues they give of their needs.  I’ve been so impressed with how they’re doing and how they’ve dealt with everything.  Here’s just one example:  Last weekend (third weekend home) Brandie and I decided to sneak out for a quick bite to eat.  Before we left we popped gobs of popcorn and put in a movie all of the kids love.  We left Brody in charge and figured none of them would move from the couch until we got back.  That’s how it had been the last few movie nights we’d had.  Brandie and I – quite honestly – needed the break and didn’t feel like it would be a big deal.  We had just finished up our meal and were waiting for the check when my phone rang from home.  Brandie answered.  It was Brody and he was frantic.  “Mom, Mighty and Gage got into a fight, she ran out the door into the rain and won’t come back in…she’s saying she’s going to run away…I don’t know what to do!”  Brandie got on the phone with Mighty and talked calmly to her – telling her she was going to freeze and that she needed to go back into the house.  If she didn’t want to be around the others she could go into our room and lock the door.  We’d be home in just a few minutes.  We paid the check, jumped in the car, and raced for home not knowing what we’d find.
As we pulled up to the front of the house I could see Brody sitting on the front porch.  I wasn’t sure why he was outside wearing his coat and just sitting there.  As we got closer to the door I could see him keep looking back toward the back of the Suburban, which was parked in front of the house.  Mighty was sitting on the back of the Suburban, in the rain, with nothing but her bedtime shorts and a coat on.  She was freezing – teeth chattering, skin cold, and a glossy look in her eyes.  Brandie and I rushed her into our bedroom and while Brandie talked her through what had happened I started up a warm bath. 
I walked out and talked with Brody.  He was so scared and didn’t know what to do so he just went and got his coat and her coat.  He handed her the coat and told her he’d just sit out there with her if she wasn’t going to go inside.  He wasn’t sure what to do but he knew he couldn’t just leave her – he was truly worried about her and didn’t want to leave her alone.  I was proud he’d listened to his heart and let his big-brother instincts kick in.
Another impressive blessing has been the special bond that Brinley and Mighty have started to create.  I remember in Ghana how nervous I was about this new bottle of oil and water not ever being able to mix.  Brinley is such a gentle, quite spirit and Mighty….well, she’s just a little different.  *smile*  She would overpower Brinley, boss her around, and control the tempo of the discussion or whatever they were doing.  There were multiple nights I’d flashback to when I’d returned from my mission to find my sweet, polite, gentle younger sister I’d left before I left for Argentina standing in the airport with long dyed black hair, black eyeliner, fingernails, and lipstick – she’d changed…BIG TIME!  Mom and Dad had welcomed in an exchange student from Spain who had a very strong personality (and other extracurricular activities) which altered my sister’s attitude and personality over a short period.  Was what I watching with Brinley and Mighty just the beginnings of the same? 
Thankfully, they’ve developed a special friendship where Brinley has become Mighty’s trusted confidant.  Mighty talks intimately with Brinley about everything and Brinley reciprocates with how to act in certain situations, how to interpret the rules of the house, and how to deal with others around her – both at school and home.  Brandie and/or I have spent a couple nights sneaking to the doorway in their room to silently listen to their ‘girl talk’ and always walk away smiling at what we hear.
There are many, many positive things happening with our family and especially these two kids.  I’m incredibly impressed with the progress that Mighty has made.  Today is week five (it’s taken me a while to find the time to write all of this) and we’ve decreased in the frequency and duration of her blowups.  She’s learning to trust Brandie and I and know that even when she’s disciplined it doesn’t mean we’re mad at her or don’t love her…it just means that we don’t like what she did or is doing.  It’s been a big breakthrough.  I’ll never forget the first couple of episodes she had - one in particular where Brandie spent over an hour in the bedroom with her waiting for her to calm down enough so she could be consoled – it was a long, long, long and painful hour for both of them.  Even when she did calm down she wouldn’t talk to either Brandie or me for a day or so after the episode.  Then, I compare that to just last night when she was disciplined for something she knew was wrong – she started into a crying fit, but listened to me talk her down and within just 5 minutes she was in control again and sitting on the bed actually talking with me about what was wrong.  HUGE progress! 
I’m so proud of both of these kids for the efforts.  They’re both working so hard to find their places in this new world.  They are like little sponges – always watching and listening.  It’s a ton of fun hearing them pick up new words (Agbesi’s newest words this week are ‘really’, ‘very’, and ‘scared’ – as in “this dinner is really, really good” – too funny).  Every day that passes they’re more and more part of the core of our family.  We’ve felt they’ve been part of the family since we first saw pictures of them two years ago, but now they’re actually a working, necessary part of a working process called the Oswald Family.
As for Brandie and me – we’re surviving and actually doing much better this last week.  I took both Mighty and Agbesi with me to set up my business’ new Salt Lake City office for three days last week.  We stayed with Angie and Ryan, which M & A thought was awesome since they got to play with their new cousins.  The trip turned out to be a great thing.  Not only did it give me alone time with both of them but it gave Brandie a much needed rest from the constant workload.  She was recharged, which is important for the health of our family.  The time I had with M & A gave me time to talk with them on a much deeper level.  We talked about why they were in America, why they had to leave Ghana, why it was important to Brandie and me that they keep close to their Ghanaian heritage, how much God loves them both, what the roles of parents and children are in God’s plan.  It was a humbling time as a father to see all of the new information soak into such raw, open emotional wounds.  I was so thankful that Father blessed us with His spirit to help teach them – and calm me while we talked.  It was one of the highlights for me over the last 5 weeks.
In summary – I feel so blessed to know that our Father in heaven recognizes our struggles and efforts to improve as a family.  He has allowed us to struggle so that we might grow closer together as a family.  He knows that through trials and tribulation we grow closer together as a unit, but also grow closer to Him.  It has been a painful month – and I know we’ll have more pain and troubled waters ahead – but I know we all want to succeed as a family.  We’re making big progress and having fun working through it.

Last Days in Ghana

I'm sorry for the delay in getting this written up.  We've been very busy trying to unpack bags, keep kids happy, and overall start gelling into a family.  I did want to jot down some thoughts and memories of the last couple days in country before I forgot them.

Sunday morning we all went over to listen to Pastor John and attend church with all of the children for the last time.  I was really excited to be in their presence again as they worshiped.  There is something special about hearing the voices of children sing praises to the Savior - add in some African drums and it's really a mesmerizing experience.  I've been excited about going to church with them since the last time we'd left.  The singing of the kids made up for any "bald man" sermons that John slyly put on me!

We were disappointed when we arrived at the home and found out that John had to leave very early to go to Togo for the day.  This meant he wouldn't be preaching today.  Instead, one of the John's friends - Pastor Evan took up the pulpit and delivered a wonderful sermon from Ecclesiastes 9.  He talked about the importance of being prepared because the Lord has promised each of us a 'time and chance' with an opportunity He will give.  It was great timing for some of the things that we'd be facing over the next few weeks.

After church we decided today would be our only day to head to the market for souvenirs.  One of the other reasons I wanted to go today was because on Sunday's everyone is dressed in their wildly colorful traditional dresses.  Thousands of people compact into the streets creating a kaleidoscope of colors.  It's one of the most wonderful sites I've ever seen.  We had several ideas of things we wanted and needed to take home: drums, traditional shirts, Shea butter for the new kids skin, etc.  In the end, we made some new friends and managed to buy almost everything we needed.

That's not the cool part of the day.  This morning Brody and I decided it would be cool to do something different since it was the Sabbath Day.  The night before while we were all knelt around the bed for family prayer we told them of our idea.  I would give each person 10 cedi for the day.  The catch - they could not use it for themselves and they could not give it to another person...They had to find a need of another person and use the money to fill that need.  The idea was that we would all be looking for opportunities to serve others.  I was anxious to see what would happen.

As we handed the money out it was fun to see the reaction of each of the children.  Brody, Brinley, Shandi, and Tyson all jumped at the challenge and excitedly started with the "what if" game.  What if they have shoes, but you want to buy them NEW shoes?  What if they don't like the food we buy for them?  What if we offend someone?  Mighty and Agbesi didn't really understand the purpose.  At first they wanted to keep the money for themselves, but after we explained the purpose neither of them wanted to play.  Actually, they both 'said' the wanted to play, but asked me to hold the money.

By day's end I didn't have a chance to notice anything because I was busy holding a sleeping Agbesi in 221 degree sweltering heat while trying to not melt into a puddle while keep Mighty from running into the road or flopping on the ground in a meltdown.  Richard, Brody, and Tyson had split off from the rest of us and went down the market road a ways.  About an hour later we all met at KFC for lunch.  Yeah...KFC - it was a little slice of heaven - partly because the chicken was great but mostly because of the air conditioning.  I sat there drinking water, re-solidifying, and dreading heading back out into the sweltering heat.

As we sat there Richard, Brody, and Tyson came excitedly to our table all three talking at the same time about two girls, shoes, and ice cream.  Once they all settled down they told us their 10 cedi story.  They were walking down the street when they noticed two little girls - apparently sisters.  Neither of the girls had shoes on and both appeared hungry and worn down.  I can only imagine their thoughts as three boys rushed to them wildly excited for no apparent reason!  They asked the girls where their shoes were - "we have none" was the reply.  The boys knew how to fix that.  The took the girls to a nearby shoe vendor and fixed them up with some new flip-flops.  This, in and of itself would have probably been enough, but these three thoughtful boys wanted to make a lasting impression.  They took the little girls over to a food stand to buy them a belly-full of food.  Once the girls were finished with their food the boys took them over to buy them ice cream - a treat they surely had never had.  I was so impressed with these three and their willingness to take time to notice the needs of another - but more importantly ACT on the needs of another.  This is exactly what the Savior taught us to do while He was here on the earth.  How many of us have walked along that road to Damascus and notices the man along the way in need.  Too many times I've justified in my head, "Boy, if I wasn't late for this meeting," or "the guy behind me looks like he's taking care of it."  It's not enough to think of doing good deeds - we must react to those feelings.  Listening to Richard, Brody, and Tyson recount the story I silently whispered a prayer of gratitude to Father for granting the opportunity to them - and then sending the Holy Spirit to confirm His pleasure in their serving of another.  Another lesson no teacher, school, or parent could ever teach - and my chest burst with pleasure in listening/watching them.

We didn't end up getting all of the items we wanted to get, but the heat was just too unbearable so we decided to buy everyone Fan Ice (a little ice cream treat packaged in a small satchel bag) and then head back home.  Brody, Brinley and Tyson wanted to spend more time at the home and we figured it would be good for Mighty and Agbesi to spend some time there before we left as well.


Monday - 3/5/2012 - Last Day in Ghana


Brandie and I decided it would be quickest if only she and I headed back into Accra to pick up the last remaining items we needed before we went home.  We asked Richard and John if it was OK to leave all the children at the home for a couple hours while we ran to market.  They both chuckled as they said "of course."  I'm still not completely straight on who enjoyed whom more - the Oswald kids or the orphans.

We returned from the market to the hotel.  There was a somber feeling by everyone as we packed up all of our stuff so we could check out of the room.  No one really wanted to talk about it although we were all feeling the exact same vacancy starting to well up inside.  I will forever have the last time I left the home and Ghana etched into my brain and heart - I was not looking forward to an encore this day.  I could already see the tear washed little faces, but this time I didn't have any reassuring words of "I'll be back" for them as they clung to my legs and waist.

We checked out of the hotel and took all of our bags over to the home since we didn't have to be to the airport until that night.  All of the children played like they've known each other for years.  Richard and I went to the food market to buy food for our going away party.  We bought 100 kilos of rice, a flat of tomato sauce, some spices, chicken, and some other little snacks.  All said we spent just over 200 cedi (about about $130 US).  We took all of the food back to the home so the Aunties could start cooking it. We learned last week that a meal of this size takes quite a bit of time to prepare.

We were thrilled to see that Mighty's Auntie Dogbeda had come to the home for the party.  I asked Richard how much it cost for her to come.  He figured it would take her about 20 cedi and most of the day to make the trip from the Volta.  That amount doesn't sound like much, but when the whole household income is about $500 a month.  I remember Anita telling us we couldn't/shouldn't give any money to the birth family because it would look like we were offering money for their children.  I really wanted to get her some money - not for the kids - but so she didn't spend money needed for food in order to get to the party.  I asked Richard if we gave him 50 cedi would he please give it to Dogbeda for her travels - and to please not tell her it was from us.  He joyfully agreed.

Around 5:00 the children started arranging the tables and chairs for the party.  Pastor John had still not arrived from his quick travels.  I had to give him a call and threaten that if he did not come soon I would hunt him down and drag him back!  (kidding of course).  With the tables and chairs arranged - and John making his timely arrival - we were ready for the meal.  I had been fighting back the gnawing nervous butterflies for the last two or three hours.  I wasn't quite sure how to react or how the children would react over the next couple hours.  I new they were very excited for the 'unknown' of America, but they hadn't shown any worry about leaving their home.  In fact, up until this time they were acting like there was nothing different than any other day of the week.

The dinner was simple - a piece of a chicken and jollof rice - but the company was wonderful.  It was fun to see all of the children and Aunties surrounding the tables honoring our children.  Everyone had their meal in front of them and patiently waited.  John stood to stay a few words.  Of course, always the comic he started off with a few funny words, but then this man with the giant heart spoke from that heart and said some wonderful things about the kids, the three we'd brought with us, and the neat relationship the last 18 months had afforded us.  We truly feel like these people are part of our family - more than friends.

Once John was finished I asked his permission to speak a few words of my own.  I expressed my gratitude to him and Irene and the rest of the people in the home for their unmatched generosity to me and my family.  I told them how much we loved each of them and would look forward to our next meeting.  I wanted them to all know that this was not "good bye" but that it was a "we'll see you later" because I honestly know we'll be back again someday.

After we were all finished with the meal the taxi arrived to take us to the airport.  We'd taken a little longer eating that I was anticipating and the time to leave had quickly crept up on us.  Now my stomach was doing flip-flops.  I don't do good at good byes and I had very vivid memories of leaving this place which had captured my heart only six short months ago.  This time however, I knew it was way different.  I was worrying not only about Mighty and Agbesi but also for the three we'd brought.  They'd made some lifelong friendships through their service to the children but also because of spending so much time with everyone.

As we started loading the bags into the cars everyone started making the rounds saying their good byes.  Once again I looked around and saw tears in the eyes of several of the children - including Tyson, Brinley and Brody.  From a parent's perspective I was so thankful that the lord had provided these kids with the tender feelings of love for others.  Mighty had gotten into the car with Brandie and I could hear her (Mighty) wailing.  There was no question that the reality of what was happening had abruptly arrived for her.  I sat in the front of the other taxi and had Agbesi with me.  He sat smiling actually giddy to be leaving.  I remember thinking "boy, he's really taking this well'.  Just before I shut the door one of the other boys walked up with a little truck in his hand.  He spoke in Ewe through the darkness to Agbesi.  Agbesi nodded his little head once and gave a slight grunt of approval while simultaneously bursting into tears and crying loudly.  I'd never heard this from him before.  I was concerned that Abu had said something mean to really hurt his feelings.  I asked him a couple of times what he had said.  When he finally regained a little of his composure he mumbled through his tears, "he asked if he could have the truck."  At first I couldn't understand what was the big deal...then it hit me - it had nothing to do with the truck - the reality of him leaving his home had finally slapped him in the face and he was now scared and nervous.  My heart cried out for these children.  It hurt so bad thinking of what was going through their little minds and hearts.  Luckily, once we were on our way to the airport the somberness and sadness only lasted as long as the drive to where they could see the airplanes...

In all, the business of the last hour at the home actually ended up helping my emotions cope with what was really happening.  I was so worried about making sure everyone was loaded along with all of the gear that it took the edge off of the thoughts of leaving all these people we'd grown to love.  Once I had a chance to think through the day I realized this was nothing more than a tender mercy from a loving Father in Heaven.  And now we're officially a family of 8 and headed to the next chapter of our lives.

Until tomorrow....

Day 6 - 3/2/2012

Pick Up Trip – Day 6 – 3/2/2012

We really needed a day to just sit around and let the kids play and rest.  The last three days had been tiring for us, but especially for them.  Today we decided just to stay at the home and then take the girls over to get their hair done.  We wanted t o wait until the end of the week so that their hair wouldn’t be all messed up for when we traveled home.

Brandie and Shandi took Brinley and Mighty over to the hairdresser’s place around noon.  We knew it would be an all-daylong deal since all three of the girls had such thick hair.  I kept the boys and just stayed at the home to let them play with the kids, help them with their chores, and introduce them to new games while I finished thinking through and trying to write my feelings of the preceding day’s trip to the village.

Tyson continues to crack me up.  If it weren’t for his pale white skin one would think he was a true African.  He has completely embraced this people and their culture.  He loves to hail the taxis, go to the corner for anything to buy, and talk to anyone who will give him an ear to bend.  This morning we were standing on the second story balcony of the hotel and I heard a “ssssssst” sound, which is the noise in Ghana to get someone’s attention.  I looked up at Tyson and saw him calling the man from across the street selling ice cream.  He wanted to buy ice cream but wasn’t allowed to walk across the street alone so he figured he’d get the guy to come to him.  It was funny.

There really isn’t anything that stood out too much to me today as being a ‘big’ deal.  One cool thing was when we headed to our local eating spot for lunch Tyson asked if Peter (his new best buddy) could come with us.  I didn’t see an issue with it, but I double-checked with John.  On the way to the restaurant I asked Peter if he’d ever been to eat out.  He looked at the floor and half embarrassed said, “no.”  I was happy that we could take this great boy with us.  He’s such a good boy and hasn’t had his chance to be a family’s center of attention.  Since he’d never been before some of the simple habitual we do were completely foreign to him.  He didn’t know there were choices of food to eat.  In fact, when I asked him what he would like it nearly paralyzed him.  He sat quietly thinking through his options and finally came to the decision that nearly all of these kids choose – chicken and fried rice.  He tried to hide the smile that was creeping onto his face, but it finally wiggled its way through his lips.  He was so excited!

When the food arrived he just sat there looking at it – again, not knowing what to do.  When I finally noticed he was just sitting there I told him to eat and he jumped in excitedly.  Now, this small boy could have eaten half of a cow – they have an amazing way of putting away food.  However, for some reason he only ate almost exactly half of the dish and then stopped.   When I asked him if he was full he just sat there.  I studied his face intently trying to decipher what he was doing.  Finally he said, “No I want to take it home and give to my friends.”  This NEVER ceases to completely amaze me.  Here you have a boy who probably has never had a full belly for one whole day in his entire life.  Yes, he’s fed well at the home now, but because of the budget constraints John has to work with most of the food is rice and beans – which burn off quickly.  So in my mind, it would be completely reasonable – even expected – for the boy at his first big meal to completely devour everything.  And yet, he did just the opposite.  He ate until he was satisfied and then thought of the others.  I was again humbled and amazed.  When we arrived back at the home he quickly disappeared into his room with some of his closest friends.  It was humbling to be a witness of this special form of godliness.

I will say this in closing…I started to realize that when we leave it will certainly be difficult on all of us, but I really think Tyson and Brinley will suffer the most pain.  They’ve developed a special bond with these children and love being around them.  I think it’s because anytime we’ve been in the home we’re able to catch a little glimpse of exactly how Christ feels for these kids.  It’s really strange.  No, the walls and grounds are not clean – they’re tidy for sure, especially for having 35 kids in the home – but yet the spirit never ceases to testify the love that God and Jesus Christ have for these children…of this I’m absolutely convinced.  I’ve talked with our kids about this and hope they’ll always remember the feelings they’ve had here.  I don’t know what they’ll be able to do with – but there is a reason they’ve been blessed with this experience and when the time comes to call upon what they’ve learned – I pray to God they will have the courage to rise to the occasion. 

Until tomorrow…

Day 5 - 3/2/2012

Pick Up Trip – Day 5 – 3/1/12

The ‘Honeymoon Phase’ with some of the kids is starting to wear off and the realization is setting in that they’re really going to be siblings.  Mighty’s strong personality is starting to wear on Brinley’s sensitive nature.  Brinley has always wanted a sister and in her mind she had this euphorial idea how it would be to have a sister where they’d play dolls, dress up, and put makeup on each morning.  Mighty hasn’t really fit that mold for her yet.  Mighty’s background and culture hasn’t molded her into a little ‘girly-girl’.  Her culture hasn’t allowed her the luxury of an easy life where these things are typical for little girls.  They’ve watched their mothers work from sun up to sun down in order to support their family – and they’re expected to do the same.  Additionally, the Ghanaian culture expects the woman to be a strong, non-emotional figure. Although Mighty doesn’t quite fit the ‘non-emotional’ mold just yet (she’s super moody with polar mood swings), she’s definitely figured out the strong, bold roll…and that is starting to wear on Brinley.  There is going to have to be some mommy-Brinley time where they visit about the new dynamic and how it’s going to work.  Likewise, there is going to be plenty mommy-Mighty time where the new family culture is explained and expected.  It will take months or years to figure out…I just hope we don’t have an estrogen bomb go off in our house before that happens!

Agbesi has quickly learned that nearly anything he does will garner the giggles or belly laughs from his brothers.  Of course, those of you who know Brody know that it doesn’t take much to make him laugh.  Agbesi has figured that out and has accented his silly personality ten fold.  He is such a clown and the more he does the more the boys laugh at him.  The problem is that he gets louder and more obnoxious and rough as the days go on.  I’ve told the boys it’s OK not to laugh at EVERYTHING he does because we don’t want him thinking that’s the only way he’ll be accepted…but the kid is just so dang funny it’s hard NOT to laugh at him!  For example, we were walking into the girl’s bedroom to have family prayer and as we were leaving our room he looked at Brody and said, “Brody, you have a SMAAAAAL butt!”  Try and have a strait face on that one!

We stayed the night again at the hotel in Doryumu last night.  Last night was much better than the first since we didn’t have any emotional blowups or any attacks by killer ants.  I’d gone into each room and exhausted nearly a whole can of RAID before we’d went to bed just to ensure we didn’t have the same problem.

Today when we woke we all started to notice that we’ve acclimated to the near unbearable humidity and heat.  The morning air actually felt cool even though it was only ten to twelve degrees cooler than during the mid-day heat.  I can still feel the heat – we just don’t have any spontaneous sweating fits that require a change of clothes!

We were all still pretty worn out from the long day before.  All of us slept in until just after 8:00 which was a treat.  John N. called and mentioned the driver would be picking him up around 8:30 and heading our way so we could all go out to the children’s village.  We’ve felt it important for the kids to return in order to say good-bye and to have some closure to that chapter of their life.  It’s been interesting to play in my mind what this day would be like and feel like.  I’ve had mixed emotions thinking about it and wondered if it would be an awkward meeting or it would be a neat experience.  In the end it was both.

The drive from Doryumu was nearly two and a half hours to Abadgikope.  It was a long drive but very interesting and beautiful.  We passed through miles of open country that looked what I’ve seen on the Discovery Channel.  There were enormous red clay termite mounds, grassy open plains with enormous bulky African trees scattered sporadically throughout, and little villages of twenty to two hundred little houses dotted along the main highway on which we traveled.  The closer we got to the biggest lake in the country, Lake Volta the vast plains started to transform into more of a tropical jungle with palm trees, mango trees, and undergrowth as dense as I’ve ever seen.  The soil had changed from the red thick clay to a sandy soil.  It was obvious we had entered into the cassava area as there were small placer farms of various sized cassava plants that became denser as we traveled further into the Volta Region.

John had brought three other children from the home with him to pick us up, so there were eight kids under the age of 14 in the van with us.  So after 24 pee stops along the way we finally arrived at the village. 

As we started to approach I began to notice what I was seeing was not anything like what I’d pictured in my mind’s eye.  There were carefully handmade mud huts with grass-thatched roofs littered throughout the area.  There was no developmental planning but rather a hut placed in proximity to family members or close family friends.  Of course there was no running water or indoors plumbing.  There were community outhouses and a community well placed in the center of the village.  Agbesi told me they could not drink the well water though because it was salty, so in order to get drinking water they would have to walk nearly two miles to the creek.  This area is sustained by cassava.  Nearly everyone in the village is a farmer of cassava and produces some product from it to be sold in the market.  Agbesi’s mother peels, slices, dries, and then grinds the cassava.  Then she places it into a big bowl to fry over the fire.  This type of cassava product is called garli (or something like that).  The people here use it on top of various dishes to add flavor and heartiness.

While we walk through the little huts I take special note of Brody, Brinley and Tyson.  I want to know what’s happening inside their heads and what thoughts they’re having.  I’ve been praying that they have life-lasting memories and experiences while here and I’m hoping they’re having one now.  None of them are saying much.  Of course, neither am I.  My mind is still trying to grasp the reality of what we’re witnessing and trying to still reconcile what is going through the minds of Mighty and Agbesi and their families – knowing this may be the very last time they’ll ever see each other.  My mind races with speculation on what their reunions will look like.  Will they run to each other and embrace with a big hug?  Will they harbor any ill feelings toward them for giving them up to the home? 

We approached Agbesi’s family home first.  It was a small brick built building painted white on the exterior walls.  It was simple in construction and design – it server the purpose for which it was built…to provide shelter.  In fact, it was nicer than most in the village.  To the left of the house was a work area covered by a thatch-roofed awning.  As we rounded the corner of the last house and came into eyeshot of those working it was Mighty’s auntie who noticed us first and ran to greet us.  We had the pleasure of meeting Dogbeda and Agbesi’s mother on our first trip to Ghana and Dogbeda had clearly remembered who we were – there was no way to communicate we were coming beforehand – but yet she still remembered us.  She ran to Brandie and the hugged for a brief while sharing feelings I’m sure only a mother can have.  She ran around the family taking time to hug each of us and make sure we were completely welcome.  Agbesi said something in Ewe and walked slowly toward the working area.  It was a little darker under the low grass roof.  I could see a woman busily working over a fire making something out of cassava.  As he got closer he noticed a familiar face and ran quickly over to his mother.  He gave her a big hug and then slowly stepped back as she spoke to him. 

I’ve never had such a cornucopia of emotions going through my heart as I did in this moment (and I know I speak for Brandie and well).  My stomach had little excitement butterflies as I watched a little boy’s (and girl’s with Mighty) face as he approached and hugged his mother.  It was clear he was excited and happy to see her.  At the same time, I saw the somber, sober look from the mother as she acknowledged him.  They were two very different reactions.  I couldn’t imagine what was going through this woman’s mind and how she was keeping so stoic at a time like this.  After the little hug she kept busy doing anything other than engaging with him.  She tended to her fire, went into the house and swept out the entry, then came back to the work shed.  I couldn’t gage what she was doing – either trying to not confront what was really happening OR she just didn’t have any affection for the boy.  I have to believe it was the prior and not the latter.   

Others came to visit us.  I didn’t know who any of them were but John or Richard would tell us who each was if either of them recognized the new people as they joined the group.  Later, while sitting with Delight and the older girls at the home did I learn the names of some of those people and that some of them were actually relatives of Agbesi.

Brandie had taken special care to prepare a photo book for each mother.  Each book had several pictures we’d taken of the kids on our last visit.  Brandie let the kids give the books to their respective mother – it was tender to watch them look through the book with their relatives and friends.  They’ve never had pictures of anything, let alone their selves.  You could see the pride well up inside of them as their eyes searched for similar emotions in the faces of the small group surrounding them.

Next we walked a hundred yards or so to Mighty’s family home.  There we were able to meet the rest of the family who raised her.  None of them – like most of the others in the village – spoke any English so we had to rely on Richard and/or John to help translate.  At this house Brody and Brinley started handing out rubber Ghana inscribed bracelets to all of the kids who had been congregating and following us around.  It was a huge hit and made all parties feel special.

Our time was growing short so we stood to say our good-byes.  The whole village experience was neither as climatic nor dramatic as I had thought it would be.  I was emotionally shocked at the mundane reaction of both families as these children walked away.  It was almost like they were excited to see the strangers in the village more than they were put out that their children were leaving.  It was truly a very strange situation for me.  I’ve thought quite a bit about it and still believe it was the right thing to do for the kids.  They needed the closure for that chapter of their lives so that they could move on to the next.  They had started to turn that page several weeks ago when we were here before.  It was obvious they were comfortable with us since while we were in the village we were their ‘security blanket’ – meaning: if they were embarrassed, shy or a little scared it was us they’d come to hide behind or talk to.  I’m sure this little visit was just as confusing to him as it was to us.  The only difference is that at some point we adults will be able to work through it mentally.

We were already in an emotional blender when Pastor John said he needed to go check on another family in another small village before we could go.  He said he’d heard that one of the children who had just been adopted out of the house recently just today had a little brother born.  John was very worried about the baby’s safety since the reason the older brother was taken in is because the mother is mentally unstable.  He recounted how some men in the village will sexually abuse this woman because they know she has mental disabilities and is not able to keep them away.  Because this remote village does not have basic medical care – let alone any type of birth control – the woman has been pregnant several times.  I honestly didn’t know if my heart could take any more this day.  I was getting physically tired from the long journey and now emotionally fatigued from the kid’s village – I just didn’t think I could take any more.

We pulled into the unknown-named village of a few dozen homes.  There were no established roads so the driver just drove in between the little mud huts – left here, right there, now strait ahead and then to the right…we had arrived.  Just like what had happened yesterday at the feeding there were several people who had noticed the strangely pigmented visitors in the van and began to follow.  When we arrived at that house John invited me to come, but I just couldn’t do it.  I asked him if he would like to borrow my camera – so he and Richard disappeared into the home while I stood by the van.  More and more people showed up and suddenly there was a fairly formidable crowd at the sliding side door of the van.  One of the older ladies in the crowd approached and boldly started looking into the van to see who was in there.  She was very nice and warmly welcomed us to their village.  She started talking with Brandie and asked if she wanted any more children.  I laughed out loud and told her no – since she was joking.  The only thing was that she didn’t laugh with me.  She continued to tell Brandie she needed another good, hard working girl to take back to America with her.  She looked over her shoulder and hollered something to someone – before long a young lady stood by her side…maybe 10 or 12 years old.  The mother introduced her as her daughter and told us this was the daughter that we should take.  She tried for nearly 10 minutes to ‘sell’ us on the idea of taking her daughter.  Then another mother approached me asking ME to take a little boy of maybe 6 years. I tried to explain that I could not – first, SW would not permit us to simply take children at will and second I could not afford it nor do I have space for them.  The worked and worked on us while the rest of the small crowed watched and chimed in approval every now and again.  I was starting to get REALLY uncomfortable at this point.  I noticed Pastor John come around the corner of the van with a small child maybe two years old.  When he came next to me he had a consternated look on his face.  He gently said to me, “This boy is a special needs.  He is four years old.”  I couldn’t believe what I was looking at.  This little tiny creature couldn’t have been 20 pounds and clearly had mental disabilities.  The young mother was behind us talking loudly and wildly at John.  To my untrained ears it sounded like maybe she was upset that he had her child.  John looked at me again and said with tears welling in his eyes, “They want me to put the child in the van and take him with us.”  Then and there I saw into the heart of this mountain of a man.  He was being torn in two by the two things he respects the most: the sanctity of children and the laws of his land.  John is a defender of children in the name of our Father and it literally was tearing his guts out to see this poor child not be cared for properly.  And yet…there was nothing any of us could do.  Social Welfare would have to be the ones to initiate the child coming to a home for care…so tonight – and every other night from here on out – the prayers from the rooms of my house will include a very concentrated plea that the process for this little man and those others we saw will soon begin.

This was the absolute pinnacle of all my heart and soul could bear.  I selfishly pleaded with Father that he would remove the suffering of these people so that I could relieve the pain in my soul.  I wanted to cry or yell, or fight…I didn’t know which – or maybe all of them at the same time.  I have never – EVER – felt these emotions well up inside of me before.  I didn’t even know what I was felling only that it felt like it was burning a giant hole in my chest.  I don’t even know how to explain it.  I’m not even sure if there are words in our modern language to aptly describe what I saw and felt and witnessed.  If there are – I don’t have them in my vocabulary.

When we loaded in the van and started heading for home the van was absolutely silent for nearly 25 minutes as we all just drove and tried to figure out what had just happened to us all.  I sit here a full 24 hours after the fact and still can not think about it without my eyes tearing up and the aching hole in my chest returning.  I know there should be something I/we can and should do about it, but the largest part of me just wants to quickly cover it up and put it behind me.  I have never, ever seen anything like that in my whole life – and selfishly I hope I never have to witness it with my own eyes again.  Not because I don’t want to help, but because I didn’t like the feelings I had and I don’t like feeling helpless.

Until tomorrow....

Pick Up Trip - Day 4 - 3/1/2012

Pick Up Trip – Day 4                       

For the first time on this trip I’m actually glad we didn’t have internet access last night.  I really needed the night to digest everything we saw and did yesterday…I’m still at a loss for words sufficient to explain properly everything that happened.  I pray I can document this well enough that in 20 years when the children or I look back we can relive all of the same feelings we had today…

We’re still in Doryumu staying at a little hotel in the middle of nowhere.  It’s a quaint little place with 10 rooms and a small restaurant.  I actually enjoy it quite a bit.  The only thing that could make it any better would be if it had hot water, but quite honestly it’s been so hot that at night when we shower it’s refreshing to feel the cool water.

John was to pick us up at 7:00am from the hotel so we could be back to his place to start the egg peeling and boxing of food.  The cooks were up at 4:00am starting to cook and prepare for the craze that would happen later that day.  I’d set our alarm for 6:00am figuring that would give us all plenty of time to get ready.  The night was shorter than I would have liked – mainly because I was still working out in my mind if I’d done the right thing by getting after Mighty. I had just started to get to sleep when Agbesi woke me and told me his ear was “paining” him.  I turned on the light to look and didn’t see anything wrong with it.  I figured he must have been sleeping on it weird or something.  Again we laid down and just as I started to doze off I felt something small crawling on my head.  I annoyingly brushed it off and argued with the bug how I just wanted to go to sleep!  I’d finally fallen into a pretty deep sleep when I heard a knock at my door…John.  I quickly grabbed the phone to look at the time – 7:00!!  Crap!  The alarm didn’t go off!  It was then I noticed the clock on the phone was set for pm while the alarm was set for am.

We all quickly scrambled to throw ourselves together not wanting to slow down the production that was already underway at the house.  When I woke Agbesi he rolled over and had looked like he’d been in a fistfight.  His right eye was swollen completely shut and his left ear was almost twice the size as the other one.  Still groggy and scrambling to figure out what was going on I asked if Mighty had elbowed him in the night or something.  Then it dawned on me…whatever bug was crawling on me had probably bitten him!  I got both of them out of bed, pulled back the sheets and saw a bunch of micro-sized ants crawling around.  Richard saw them and said that was definitely the culprit.  Poor kid – I could tell he was embarrassed about it and didn’t want to go into public looking like that…but he really didn’t have a choice.  When we arrived to Stacy’s house she gave us some anti-allergy pills for him.  By days end the swelling had gone down quite a bit and we could actually see the little bite marks behind his ear and in the corner of his eye.  Dang bugs!

At the house once again John and Stacey showed their incredible hospitality by having breakfast waiting for us all on the table.  We all dished up the hot oatmeal, ate it quickly, and headed out the door for the other house where the cooks were quickly working away.  This morning was abnormally cool having rained hard during the night and still sprinkling a little yet this morning.  All of us Obrunies loved the cool morning air and saw it as a break from the sweltering heat.  The darker members of our crowd shivered and complained how cold it was.  We giggled and told them how they were going to freeze at home if they thought this 70-degree weather was cold!

I walked into the kitchen where the ladies were cooking the meals and was fascinated at how they were able to cook as much as they were.  They had two enormous aluminum pots on a two burner stove heating water for the next wave of rice they’d be cooking.  Outside they had already had filled a thirty gallon trashcan with rice and another with hard-boiled eggs.  We grabbed a long skinny table and set it up immediately outside the kitchen door…this would be the production line table.  We placed several Styrofoam packages in neatly formed row.  The first gal would come along with the rice and give two generous helpings of white rice.  Next would come Richard on egg duty.  He’d place an egg in the corner of the rice.  Then the sauce person would come along and place two tablespoons of the spicy red sauce that had been cooked.  It was a meager meal, but it was more than the people we’d be feeding would have for any other meal that day.  After that row of meals was packaged we’d put a rubber band around it and put a plastic spoon with it.  We brought out a big table and started stacking the individual meals in a row and stacked them high.  As the hours went by the table started filling up.  Row by row we continued to add to the number of meals we’d be able to feed.  By 2:00 in the afternoon – nearly six hours of work for us we’d packaged 1,200 meals.  It was an incredible sight to see all of those little packages and think there would actually be that many children in the one little village where we’d be going.

At 2:30 the three taxi cars we’d hired to help us deliver the meals had arrived.  Two of them were station wagon-type and the other was a sedan.  We all formed a human conveyor belt and started filling up the cars with meals.  In the end, all three cars were filled and left little room for the human passengers.  Before we left we all headed over to the house where the house cook had prepared a generous meal of Red Red – a local dish of fried plantains and black-eyed peas.  It’s actually one of my favorite dishes here.  After all of our bellies were full it was now time to go do the same for several others.

The village we were going to help was called Tema New Town.  It’s a sleepy little fisherman village directly on the coast about an hour east of Accra.  The water is a beautiful, clear blue color with waves gently crawling up the rocky shorelines in most places.  As we continued in the cars down the main road that parralled the beach the rocks turned into a soft sand beach.  There were several very humble homes built right on the beach within a stone’s throw distance to the water line.  The homes were clearly hand built by poor fisherman simply trying to provide shelter for their family.  Many of the homes reminded me of the villas I’d walked through in Argentina as a missionary.  There was a big difference though – there were children in the streets…many, many children.  It was odd.  We’ve traveled through many different villages here and usually we’ll see a few kids here and there, but mostly young adults or adults.  This village however, had a much different feeling to it.  It was nearly all children in the street – and lots of them.  They clearly had not seen too many white people before because they all just stared as we slowly drove by.  Brinley and Tyson loved it and felt like they were the grand masters in a parade waving at everyone garnering giggles from the onlookers.  As we arrived closer to the location where we’d be doing the feeding I looked behind us and noticed a small caravan of running children chasing behind us.

The location they chose to do the feed was a compound with buildings on two sides, a long courtyard in the middle, and two big wooden gates on either end of the courtyard.  We backed the taxis tightly up to the one gate creating a wall so the kids couldn’t directly get to the food.  The idea was to make the crowd go to the far gate for entrance.  John and Brody would be there marking hands with ink to try and create some sort of checks and balances with who had received a meal.  John and Brody would allow small groups of 10 to 20 through the far gate.  The children would run through the courtyard and through our gate where we’d hand them each a meal.  At first the crowd was small and manageable and seemed to follow protocol.  As the children with their meals ran back to their homes with meal in hand the word quickly got out to the many others in the village.  Soon the small crowd had swollen into a great swarm of buzzing excitement.  People were trying to cut lines, push others out of the way, jump he car barrier to get to the food, and any other ploy possible to fill their bellies.  Some of their tricks were pretty cleaver – others were just down right comical.  At one point I heard Stacy say to one, “Nice try, but you can take those puppy dog eyes and big pouty lips up to the back of the line and try it there!”  I laughed out loud at her candor – it was great.

Richard was the great peacekeeper on our end with his big, deep, powerful voice.  The crowd would start pushing past the barrier and I could hear him barking orders in Twi.  The children would quickly react to his demands.  He was also our fearless translator since he speaks all of the lower Ghana languages: Twi, Gah, and Ewe.  If anyone tried to play the “I don’t understand” card Richard would come over and quickly make sure they understood!

We had arrived at the village at 4:30 and by 6:00 we had given out 1,200 meals.  It was a whirlwind of activity and energy.  My mind raced trying to keep up with the pandemonium and everything I had seen and experienced.  There were so many children who only had a shirt on and nothing else…no shoes, no pants, no underwear.  Others who were sick or had physical ailments…leg or arm issues, bad burns on different parts of their body, and others missing eyes or ears.  Mostly, the thing I noticed were the HUGE smiles as they ran out of the gate with their meal in hand.  Most of them would run back to their little homes to enjoy the meal or perhaps share them with others in the home.  There were others who would immediately sit down on anything they could find once out of the gate and start quickly eating.  Several of them would finish eating and then start cleverly figuring out how to remove the mark on their hand.  We saw some of them scrubbing away in the little mud pond behind the building, others scraping their hands on the brick wall, and yet others who would just simply keep the marked hand in their pocket as they came back around trying to get a second meal.  Usually, Brody and John would sniff out the imposter and send them away.  Of course, we wanted to give them as much as they could have…but we had to make sure everyone received at least one.

I couldn’t help but imagine what the Savior would do in this situation or how he would have reacted.  I could picture Him smiling as he saw some of his children administer to others who had needs.  It was a deeply humbling experience for all of us and I was grateful beyond words that my children had the opportunity to experience such a life-altering thing.  Each one of them helped in the process.  Brinley, Tyson, Mighty and Agbesi all were handing out the meals to the kids who would come through the gates.  I stood as a humbled father watching as my kids tried to replicate the Holy One if He were to be there.  They knew exactly what they were doing and they were doing it with great joy.  It was something they truly enjoyed.

Another thing I was deeply touched by was watching Mighty.  Here is a girl who has felt what most of these kids were feeling.  She would grab four or five meals and would usually not make it back to the gate before seeing someone in need and walking to them to feel that need.  She was the only one of the five who would look around while walking to the gate to actually seek one who had a need.  I saw her give a meal to an old man, crippled from the years of manual labor.  I saw her give a meal to two or three young mothers with small infants on their back.  I saw her give a couple meals to some older boys who had some sort of mental issues.  It was truly a holy experience.  Here is a girl who tries very, very hard to create an impenetrable shell so others can’t see her soft side and yet when the rubber meets the road, she shines her inner compassion through.  I didn’t say a word to her – I just admired and pressed the internal ‘record’ button in my mind’s eye…hoping to keep it forever.

Agbesi at first didn’t get out of the car.  He was embarrassed because his eye and ear were still quite swollen and he was worried the other children would tease him.  After about a half hour he slowly came out of the car and just stood by watching.  Next, he moved closer to me.  After a time he noticed that several hundred people had passed by and not one of them even mentioned anything about his eye – so he decided it was OK to come help.  He would grab two meals and disappear into the courtyard only to come running back out and grab two more.  It was fun to watch him get joy out of serving others.

Tyson was again in his element.  He was talking to everyone and trying to make new lifelong friends.  He has a unique ability to make friends with everyone, no matter where we are.  He loved helping others – that’s his M.O.

Brinley was the silent worker.  She worked and observed not saying much.  I could see in her eyes what she was thinking.  Brinley has always been our compassionate one always thinking of others.

Afterwards, on the way back to the hotel the ride was very quite.  Everyone was exhausted from the day’s work, but mostly people were pondering what we’d just experienced.  It was a deeply humbling experience – possibly bordering on the sacred…at least that was the feeling I had.  It seems that every day I say something of the same…but these are memories and feelings I hope I never forget.  More importantly, I hope my children never forget what they saw and felt today.  It is something that should change their outlook on life and hopefully will help them to be better people in life.

Tomorrow we go to the village to visit the biological families with the children.  It should be another emotional-provoking experience.  I’m sure at minimum it will be something to write about!

Until tomorrow…