Two Parts

Part One: Ode to Russia

We love Russia.  LOVE it.  We are literally having the time of our lives out here.  Tonight at dinner, we said that it was like a 7 day date night in the middle of a beautiful European-like country, but set in a mystical forest, on the Sea of Japan, mixed with the joy of a missions trip, but the best part is you get to take home the child you fell in love with.  Plus, we get to be driven around and cooked for each meal.  It’s fabulous.  

 I told myself the traveling must be the hard part, since the paper work was easy, and adoption is supposed to be hard, right?  But so far, it’s the best part.  The scenery is from a story book, the food is amazing, the people are wonderful and we feel so taken care of.

This is the front door of our hotel, which also happens to have a wonderful restaurant down stairs, and they give us a 25% discount because we are adopting!

Outside our hotel.

 A short walk from our hotel is the Sea of Japan.  (Yes, we are that far east)

On it’s shores wash up green colored stones, while forest trees line the sand, and paddle boats are strung up in lines.

We knew we needed to stay awake a bit longer after dinner to ward off jet lag, so we walked the sea shore after passing through a park with some carnival rides.

Another amazing part of our trip are the people who are helping us.  We have built in Russian best friends who we spend a good portion of our day with.  They are the kindest and coolest Russian gals around, Dasha and Sveta.  Dasha is our translator and at only 22 she is so professional yet fun and easy to talk to, she promised she would come visit us soon back home. 

Part Two:  Seeing our girl again

We bustled through city traffic, with the light in the sky already turning and a soft orange.  She ran out to greet us, so excited.  We lugged our huge suitcase of donations for the older kids, mostly donated from Aaron and Kelly Williams, and the staff asked if it was all for Maria.  “For everyone,” we said, They all looked back and forth between each other, “Wow,” they said.  Maria was back in a second, holding something in her hand to show us.

It was the white ribbon that had wrapped her present from yesterday from Grandma that I had put in her hair.  She whispered in her soft voice, “Will mama do my hair again?” hopeful.

“Da,” I told her.  Her hair was much easier to brush today, and I made it very special with her white bow.

Maria told her caregivers after we left yesterday that we were her real parents, and we have just been looking for her, and only just found her.  Oh, that one really got us, and I had been pretty good about holding back tears.

As I brushed her hair, a very stern, unsmiling female doctor came in and sat down across from us.   She asked us if we read her medical report, we said we had.  She told us about Maria, good overall health, and asked us if we had any questions for her.  We didn’t, but even if we did, we wouldn’t have asked with her present!  My goodness.  So instead, I smiled at the doctor and said, “We have no questions, we only want to thank you so much for taking such good care of our girl for us for so long, we are forever grateful.”

This broke the stern woman’s frown, and she cracked a smiled at Maria.  “She is very good girl.  We so happy she have family.  So very happy for her.”

“We are the happiest,” we told her.

Our sweet friend Jaime gave us a great sticker paper doll book for Maria before we left.  We had the best time working on it all together.  I told Dasha she had to help too, and even papa joined.

We always let Maria pick the first girl, there were usually 8 different options of girls on each page with a different style and color of hair, then you picked out their clothes.  “Who do you want to pick, Maria, you can pick anyone.”  Each time she silently picked the girl with long, blonde hair and stuck her on the page to dress and decorate.

Dasha asked her, “Who are you making?”

“Mama,” she whispered, as she picked out the perfect sweater, or bow, or shoes, and very, very careful, lined them up and stuck them on ‘mama.’
 

There were no boy stickers, so papa had to draw himself in each time.  We were laughing and having a good time, especially making Sveta’s always look the most awesome.

She opened the letter from her 4 year old cousin Charlee, and she though it was really fun and special.

Then we took some family pictures.  Mama and her girl.  I just had to pick her up.

Oh my goodness, is this not meant to be, or what?!  Minnesota Vikings, or Wikings 🙂  She’ll have to wear these on our family trips to Minnesota.

 Maria and Papa

 Mama, Maria and Papa.  We feel like the luckiest most blessed people in the whole world to have this little life in our lives.  Thank you, God.

Then I looped the camera strap around Maria’s neck, “Do you want to try and take a picture?” I asked her.  I held the camera up to her face, and showed her how to look through, and press the button.  “Who do you want to take a picture of?” asked Dasha.

“Mama Papa,” she said.

Photo by Maria 🙂

Photo by Maria

 From moment one, Maria was attached to me, but the orphanage doesn’t have any men care takers, so she was a little more shy around Andrew, that is until he pulled out his phone with the talking Tom Cat app.  I watched him teach her how to use it, and when Talking Tom would repeat back what she said in a silly voice, the two of them would laugh, and laugh together. 

The new shirt I got her, which is waay to big!  Now I know she is a medium.

A few minutes later, we heard a great commotion coming up the stairs.  All the kids from her groupa came in.  They crowded Andrew and Maria with loud, rambunctious laughter and movement.

Maria started to get a little uneasy, all the kids were vying for our attention.

Which led to my favorite part of the day.  Maria’s sweet, shy face got a bit more serious, she slipped her arm around her papa, and whispered, “Papa.”

“My papa.”

 I started to hand our stickers to the other kids (Thank you Sharon!!), and they were so happy they were flipping out, saying, “Spaseba!  Spaseba!” and jumping around for my attention.  Maria came into my arms and looked up into my face.  “My mama?” she asked me.  “Da,” I told her and held her close.  “I am your mama.”

From then on, when I talked to the kids, I always said Maria’s name.  “Who wants to take a picture with Maria?” I asked, and they all ran to line up.  Maria got everyone in line, adamant that they all obeyed me.  When she gets happy and excited, she bounces on her toes.

“Who wants to have Maria take a pictures of them?” and I gave her the big camera.  The kids were very impressed and lined up to have their pictures taken.

She looks like a Turner to me 🙂

This precious boy is called Glip.  He is so sweet, and funny and fun.  He tried to call Andrew papa, but Andrew smiles and corrects him, “Andrei.”

Our visit was over because all the kids were in the room to eat dinner.  We started to pack up, but Maria ran to clean and organize all the gifts we brought, bagging up each bead in the right spot, folding things, making it all perfect for us.  Our sweet girl.

Through the loud noise, crazy commotion of the kids and while seeing us grab our purses and back packs, Maria with a solemn face came up to us, and whispered, “Mama and Papa like Maria?”

Did we still want her, she wanted to know, even with all these other kids.

“Maria,” I told her,

“Ya tibia leblue,” I love you.

I gave her a kiss on the cheek and told her we would be back early tomorrow, her face broke into her sweet smile, joy.  “Maria,” papa said, “Ya tibia leblue.”  She smiled and went back happily to her friends.

“Dasvidena!”

Another groupa was outside playing when we left.

Our two part story has come to an end.  We see our girl tomorrow, then hopefully on the weekend, and we jet out very early next week.  But the best part of our day?

“Do you want to spend more time with her to see if you like her?” they asked.

“GIVE US THOSE PAPERS!” we said.