Thursday, February 16, 2012
Too Cool Not to Share
I don't post much about my writing, but my editor sent me this, and it's too cool not to share.
The Boy Whom No One Cared For (Wesley Waits)
Jennifer, mom to the cutest twin boys ever, has a real heart for waiting children with albinism. She's compiled a list of boys who are waiting for families and sent it to me. I plan to advocate for all these gorgeous guys, but today, I have to tell you about the one who has broken my heart.
Let's call him Wesley.
Wesley was born in August 2000. For six years, he lived with his family. They cared for him, loved him, nourished him and then, on August 24, 2006, they left him at the gate of an orphanage. I don't know why. I won't even speculate. If you've read my post on the photo you understand my feelings on the subject. Whatever the reasons, the choice was made. Six-year-old Wesley was brought from the place where he had lived as someones son to a place where he was no one's. In his growth report, the stage is set, the scene described with a wording that will haunt me until I know that this young man has finally found a family who will love him.
You see, in the growth report, it says that an employee of the orphanage found "a boy whom no one cared for" at the gate.
A boy whom no one cared for.
No one.
I know the interpretation of the words is off. That, more than likely, the writer was simply saying that Wesley was alone without a supervising adult.
But, I have read many of these growth reports, and I have never seen one interpreted like this.
It is the deepest desire of the human heart to know love, to feel it and to pour it out. We all want to be cared for. We long for connection and intimacy. We long to be known and understood and accepted. To not have that is to be denied the most basic of human needs.
And, there he was, a little six-year-old boy. No note. No explanation pinned to his shirt. Nothing but his orange-blond hair and blue eyes and handsome face. A boy whom no one cared for.
There is no hint as to what he told the police. No glimpse into what he was feeling or thinking. From that moment until now, he becomes what he was at that gate. A boy whom no one cared for.
Wesley's paperwork was processed and he appeared on the shared list in 2008. At that point, he was still young and cute and little. For three years, Wesley has been on that list. He is now 11.5. His twelfth birthday is looming. At fourteen, he will always and only be that boy at the gate of the orphanage.
How awful that children like Wesley have clocks ticking over their heads, little invisible time pieces that people use to determine how easy or safe or lovable these children will be. I am not judging. I am guilty of the same. We had no intention of adopting a child older than five. That we did is a matter of grace. My life would not be as full without Cheeky in it. Loving her has been as easy as breathing, and knowing her has changed me for the better.
I think Wesley will be that change for one blessed family. I think he will be sunshine and warmth and joy. He is described as sensible and gentle, polite and easy to get along with. He loves playing outside and gets along well with his peers. He is healthy and, aside from the visual impairment that goes along with albinism, all findings on his physical exam are normal.
Yet...he waits. The boy whom no one cared for.
It is a thing I can not fathom.
And it breaks my heart.
If you are interested in learning more about Wesley, please email me directly. If you would like to link to this post, please do.
Wesley is on the shared list. That means that any agency can access his file. I've worked with Bethany Christian Services and highly recommend them. I am also very impressed by WACAP. They seem to have a passion for kids like Wesley.
Let's call him Wesley.
Wesley was born in August 2000. For six years, he lived with his family. They cared for him, loved him, nourished him and then, on August 24, 2006, they left him at the gate of an orphanage. I don't know why. I won't even speculate. If you've read my post on the photo you understand my feelings on the subject. Whatever the reasons, the choice was made. Six-year-old Wesley was brought from the place where he had lived as someones son to a place where he was no one's. In his growth report, the stage is set, the scene described with a wording that will haunt me until I know that this young man has finally found a family who will love him.
You see, in the growth report, it says that an employee of the orphanage found "a boy whom no one cared for" at the gate.
A boy whom no one cared for.
No one.
I know the interpretation of the words is off. That, more than likely, the writer was simply saying that Wesley was alone without a supervising adult.
But, I have read many of these growth reports, and I have never seen one interpreted like this.
It is the deepest desire of the human heart to know love, to feel it and to pour it out. We all want to be cared for. We long for connection and intimacy. We long to be known and understood and accepted. To not have that is to be denied the most basic of human needs.
And, there he was, a little six-year-old boy. No note. No explanation pinned to his shirt. Nothing but his orange-blond hair and blue eyes and handsome face. A boy whom no one cared for.
How awful that children like Wesley have clocks ticking over their heads, little invisible time pieces that people use to determine how easy or safe or lovable these children will be. I am not judging. I am guilty of the same. We had no intention of adopting a child older than five. That we did is a matter of grace. My life would not be as full without Cheeky in it. Loving her has been as easy as breathing, and knowing her has changed me for the better.
I think Wesley will be that change for one blessed family. I think he will be sunshine and warmth and joy. He is described as sensible and gentle, polite and easy to get along with. He loves playing outside and gets along well with his peers. He is healthy and, aside from the visual impairment that goes along with albinism, all findings on his physical exam are normal.
Yet...he waits. The boy whom no one cared for.
It is a thing I can not fathom.
And it breaks my heart.
If you are interested in learning more about Wesley, please email me directly. If you would like to link to this post, please do.
Wesley is on the shared list. That means that any agency can access his file. I've worked with Bethany Christian Services and highly recommend them. I am also very impressed by WACAP. They seem to have a passion for kids like Wesley.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Guess Who Has A Family???!!!!
I am so excited!!!!
A family just recieved PA for a boy who has been on my heart and in my prayers for over a year.
Finally....a home for a boy who has never had one.
Finally...a place where he will always belong.
Finally.....people who will look at him and say, "ours"
Finally!
Please join me in rejoicing in the wonderful news that William finally has a family of his very own.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Wherein My Stupid Get Healthy Plan Gets More Stupid (or, what I learned from the fishdive)
Last week was The Musician's 17th birthday.
The Musician is a great kid. He's easy for me to understand because our personalities are similar, and he is fun to be around. He is smart and driven. He has a good sense of fair play and he makes (mostly) good decisions about his actions and his words. He is learning to take responsibility for who he is and who he will become and that really makes me proud.
In the midst of my rather crappy week, I was watching him with Sassy. Now, Sassy and The Musician both want to rule the roost (so to speak). The Musician, being the oldest, does not feel the need to bow to Sassy's whims the way others (say...Cheeky) might. Sassy, being the oldest girl and also the youngest for eight years, loves to have things her way. As recently as last year, the two would often get into squabbles about who did what and said what and, even, who thought what. This year, both have matured. I've noticed them actually having conversations with each other. It helps that The Musician (who loves all things related to guns and jiu jitsu and hunting) is, in fact, a musician. He's a trained pianist and he is very gifted. Sassy, of course, is a dancer. She also loves music, but has never had the patience to sit for long enough to practice piano. After about two years of forcing the issue, I decided my time and energy (and money) was better spent elsewhere.
Anyway, I was watching the two of them and the rest of my crew while I was lying on the couch thinking about how stupid my Stupid Get Healthy Plan has suddenly gotten.
You see, three weeks ago, I was exercising at least 7 hours a week. I did two hour-long spin classes, two step/boot camp classes, one Zumba class, one 1.75 hour jazz class, one conditioning class and an hour or more on the treadmill.
Now, my Stupid Get Healthy Plan consists of lying on my stomach with a pillow under my pelvic bone for 10-15 minutes a day, some weird upper back stretches 3 times an hour, and two quad strengthening exercises to try to build up strength in my knee.
How far the mighty have fallen, right? Sigh.
So, all my kids were gathered in the living room. Sassy was dressed and ready for ballet. She began to do her little stretching routine, so I grabbed my camera and shot a few pictures, because she is very photogenic. Plus, I was irritated with my irritation over my even more stupid stupid get healthy plan.
Next thing I knew, Sassy had talked her oldest and youngest brother into 'partnering' with her.
Please excuse the mess in the living room. My house is falling to ruin at about the same rate as my body.
Anyway, Sassy talked The Musician into trying the fishdive.
They tried
and tried
and tried again.
And, suddenly, they had it. I don't know quite how, but there they were in fairly close proximity to what a fishdive is supposed to look like.
The Musician is a great kid. He's easy for me to understand because our personalities are similar, and he is fun to be around. He is smart and driven. He has a good sense of fair play and he makes (mostly) good decisions about his actions and his words. He is learning to take responsibility for who he is and who he will become and that really makes me proud.
In the midst of my rather crappy week, I was watching him with Sassy. Now, Sassy and The Musician both want to rule the roost (so to speak). The Musician, being the oldest, does not feel the need to bow to Sassy's whims the way others (say...Cheeky) might. Sassy, being the oldest girl and also the youngest for eight years, loves to have things her way. As recently as last year, the two would often get into squabbles about who did what and said what and, even, who thought what. This year, both have matured. I've noticed them actually having conversations with each other. It helps that The Musician (who loves all things related to guns and jiu jitsu and hunting) is, in fact, a musician. He's a trained pianist and he is very gifted. Sassy, of course, is a dancer. She also loves music, but has never had the patience to sit for long enough to practice piano. After about two years of forcing the issue, I decided my time and energy (and money) was better spent elsewhere.
Anyway, I was watching the two of them and the rest of my crew while I was lying on the couch thinking about how stupid my Stupid Get Healthy Plan has suddenly gotten.
You see, three weeks ago, I was exercising at least 7 hours a week. I did two hour-long spin classes, two step/boot camp classes, one Zumba class, one 1.75 hour jazz class, one conditioning class and an hour or more on the treadmill.
Now, my Stupid Get Healthy Plan consists of lying on my stomach with a pillow under my pelvic bone for 10-15 minutes a day, some weird upper back stretches 3 times an hour, and two quad strengthening exercises to try to build up strength in my knee.
How far the mighty have fallen, right? Sigh.
So, all my kids were gathered in the living room. Sassy was dressed and ready for ballet. She began to do her little stretching routine, so I grabbed my camera and shot a few pictures, because she is very photogenic. Plus, I was irritated with my irritation over my even more stupid stupid get healthy plan.
I shot a couple of photos.
Anyway, Sassy talked The Musician into trying the fishdive.
They tried
It wasn't perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but it was pretty good for a girl who isn't even eleven and a young man who spends his days preparing for a career in law enforcement.
I would have missed that moment if I'd been at the gym. I would have missed seeing a glimpse of the graceful woman Sassy will become and the gallant heroic man that The Musician is well on his way to being.
It occurred to me then, that it is okay that my stupid get healthy plan has become more stupid. Maybe I can't do all the things I used to do right now, but if I just keep working slowly and steadily, I will get back where I was. When I do, I may find that the journey has been a slow meandering rather than the whirlwind of motion that it was before and that meandering slowly has made it even better. Perhaps, I will find that I have seen the trees in the midst of the forest and noticed the beauty of every leaf because I have been forced to take a break and slow down and just.....be.
I guess that is okay. I guess it is pretty good, really. We only walk each moment once, after all. It is best to walk it with purposeful awareness of the joy each step brings.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Just to Cheer Me Up (Olivia)
Today, I learned that when a Silvardo hits a Dodge Caravan, it isn't just the knee that ends up injured. My spine, which use to be a nice straight line of vertebrae, is no longer nice and straight. As a matter of fact, my lower spine is shifted to the right and it seems that I may also have a compressed disc. This, of course, explains my continued and not-easing lower back pain. My physical therapist has forbidden me from sitting for longer than 20 minutes at a time. He has also forbidden me from walking on the treadmill for longer than 15 minutes.
You see where this is heading, right?
Oh, yes, friends. All that hard work at The Stupid Get Healthy Plan, all the hard work at creating and maintaining a writing career has hit a road block (shaped suspiciously like a large pickup truck). For lack of a better word, it sucks.
Well meaning friends remind me often that I am very fortunate. I do have a beautiful new van :
And, I am very much alive.
I appreciate those blessings more than you can know.
But, the fact is, I am use to a very busy and active life, and it is driving me absolutely batty to be so limited. Also, constant back pain is very annoying. VERY. So, yes, I am very fortunate, but I am also frustrated and irritated and a little blue.
So, to cheer myself up, I am thinking of this little guy who has finally been matched with his family:
And all the other little ones that I have advocated for who now have families:
There are many more than that, and that really cheers my sour mood.
She also cheers my mood:
Olivia was born in December 2008. She is an absolute doll. She's had surgery for spina bifida and correction for club foot. Her smile makes my heart sing, and I just know that her family is out there somewhere. Maybe you are that family. Seriously, wouldn't you love to see that sweet sweet smile every day?
Since my twenty minutes of sitting is up, you can learn more about Olivia here.
You see where this is heading, right?
Oh, yes, friends. All that hard work at The Stupid Get Healthy Plan, all the hard work at creating and maintaining a writing career has hit a road block (shaped suspiciously like a large pickup truck). For lack of a better word, it sucks.
Well meaning friends remind me often that I am very fortunate. I do have a beautiful new van :
And, I am very much alive.
I appreciate those blessings more than you can know.
But, the fact is, I am use to a very busy and active life, and it is driving me absolutely batty to be so limited. Also, constant back pain is very annoying. VERY. So, yes, I am very fortunate, but I am also frustrated and irritated and a little blue.
So, to cheer myself up, I am thinking of this little guy who has finally been matched with his family:
And all the other little ones that I have advocated for who now have families:
She also cheers my mood:
Olivia was born in December 2008. She is an absolute doll. She's had surgery for spina bifida and correction for club foot. Her smile makes my heart sing, and I just know that her family is out there somewhere. Maybe you are that family. Seriously, wouldn't you love to see that sweet sweet smile every day?
Since my twenty minutes of sitting is up, you can learn more about Olivia here.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
It Is Far Better to Give Than Receive (But It Is Still Fun to Receive)
Because of continued lower back and neck pain, I'm having to limit the time I spend at my computer.
Too bad, because I have a lot to say about the thing I got in the mail yesterday.
Not a box of books (although we all know how much that cheers me).
Just an envelope with this inside:
The hand print belongs to Jimmy.
I sponsor Jimmy for less money a month than it cost to buy my family one disgusting (yet, oddly tasty) meal at McDonald's. I figure the amount I'm paying a day is the equivalent of less than what most of my friends pay for their coffee fixes (not pointing any fingers or anything).
Now, I'm not one to use guilt as a motivator, so I'm simply going to say that it is far better to give than to receive, but getting that little postcard sure did feel nice. It felt like a million bucks, and that makes my sponsorship and the good it will do this young man who will never have a mother or father's love well worth it.
If you're interested, you can help a kid like Jimmy. Just look at these precious faces and tell me that it isn't worth giving up that disgusting (yet, oddly tasty meal at McDonald's) or a few cups of coffee a week.
Too bad, because I have a lot to say about the thing I got in the mail yesterday.
Not a box of books (although we all know how much that cheers me).
Just an envelope with this inside:
Now, I'm not one to use guilt as a motivator, so I'm simply going to say that it is far better to give than to receive, but getting that little postcard sure did feel nice. It felt like a million bucks, and that makes my sponsorship and the good it will do this young man who will never have a mother or father's love well worth it.
If you're interested, you can help a kid like Jimmy. Just look at these precious faces and tell me that it isn't worth giving up that disgusting (yet, oddly tasty meal at McDonald's) or a few cups of coffee a week.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)