Thursday, March
14, 2013
THE
ORPHANAGE
We just returned from a visit to the orphanage here in Changsha.
This is where Sammy and Ellie spent their first six weeks after
being abandoned but before they were moved to ELIM in Xian.
On the spectrum of Chinese orphanages, I suspect that Changsha
may be one of the better ones. It was clean. The staff seemed
kind. There were a lot of books and toys on the floor.
It seemed to have everything a child could want… except for the
only thing a child really needs – a family.
In that regard, the “nicest” orphanage in the world would still
be a heartbreaking place. You enter knowing that every child you
meet has experienced tragedy and loss. Beyond the loss of their
parents, many of these kids also face severe physical challenges
because of their special needs. From the moment you enter, you
are reminded of an obvious fact: God intended children to be
raised by parents in families… not by the state in institutions.
To be clear, there are moments of joy in an orphanage. They’re
still kids. I saw the laughter of one child running with a
friend. I saw two boys playing with an old broken car on the
floor and cheering when they got it to go farther than the last
time.
I saw a fair number of smiles. Sometimes they were the shy
smiles of a child hidden around a corner to spy on the
odd-looking and odd-sounding strangers who had come into their
world. Others were the bold, proud smiles as a child showed off
his artwork or some of his writing.
But the smile I may never forget is a heartbreaking one… the
smile of a child trying desperately to seem worthy of a family.
A child trying to seem “good enough” to be loved.
To understand the context, you need to know that one of the
women in our travel group works for our adoption agency. She was
interviewing and videotaping some of the older boys in hopes of
advocating for families to adopt them. (Older boys are some of
the least likely to be adopted.)
And make no mistake, these are smart kids who knew exactly what
was happening. They were auditioning for a family.
This is not like a job interview. “Failing” to be picked from
this interview would likely resign these kids to the orphanage
until they age-out of the system and enter the world alone. And
in a culture where family is so important, “orphan” status does
not necessarily end at adulthood.
Given this context, you could see the pressure on their faces.
The pressure to seem smart… to seem nice… to seem worthy of love
and a family. Their facial expressions reveal what you know is
in their heart, “Please pick me. I would be a good son. I would
work very hard in school. I would really like a mommy.”
It is immeasurably tragic that any child needs to wonder if they
are worthy of a family. That any child would ever wonder if they
are “good enough” to be picked.
One of the children being interviewed has bilateral microtia…
the same condition as our Mia. Like our Mia, he has trouble
hearing… but he is a smart child who has managed to learn how to
speak in spite of his hearing loss.
This boy was incredibly sweet. He had an obviously tender heart.
When asked, he was quick to say that he really wanted a mommy.
We have seen what a bone-anchored hearing aid has done for Mia.
It has changed her life. We have also seen what a family has
done for her. We are biased… but we think that change is even
more dramatic.
This boy obviously needs both.
We will be praying that our new friend (and all his
“classmates”) are ultimately given the same opportunity as Mia,
Will, Ellie, and Sam. The chance to stop wondering if they are
good enough… the chance to KNOW that they are loved. To be
orphans no longer.
Importantly, these children do not need to wait for their legal
adoption before they can experience the love they crave. They
are already loved by the God of the universe. The price of their
eternal adoption has already been paid.
But in the halls of the Changsha orphanage, there is little
chance that they will be told about this. They will continue to
wonder about earthly dads and likely remain ignorant of their
heavenly one.
I noted that there were fewer smiles as we left versus when we
entered. As the door closed behind us, we left behind a hallway
full of kids inevitably wondering if their mom and dad would
ever walk through that door to finally love them… and painfully
unaware that their Father in Heaven is already there and already
does. |
Our official adoption ceremony.
It's good to have a best friend.
This is the look that gets me extra candy.
Our sweet new friend who needs a family.
A snapshot of orphanage life (or in this case, lunch.) |
