Thursday, June 18, 2009
One less orphan in Rwanda
I just read the most amazing, news:
A friend, the mother of one of my daughter’s friends, a woman I’ve known for almost 8 years yet am still getting to know-- one long New England winter at a time-- is in Rwanda with her husband and her seven year old daughter.
Four long years and untold suffering since her second child, a son, was conceived and then stillborn, she has finally been given the official okay to adopt a Rwandan orphan.
In this post she describes holding her soon-to-be-adopted son for the first time:
“Eventually a sister walks toward us with a bundle in her arms, She holds him so we can see him, and I greet him for a while with her holding him. Then suddenly he is put in my arms and it takes just a minute for me to feel comfortable accepting him, actually the minute is more like the time it takes for me to let myself love him."
Funny, though her writing is rich and descriptive, and the story, the back story, all of it has been so emotional for all of us who have played a part in this family’s lives, I didn’t cry when I first read it. I simply exhaled, as if I had been holding my breath for a thousand years.
But I’m crying now.
There’s a great French saying I just learned: “Pleure, tu pisseras moins: Cry, you piss less.”