They Are All Our Children
A woman steps forward in one of our programs at the Option Institute. She's an attorney from El Salvador (long embroiled in conflict) and knows of a little girl needing a home...almost 10 years old with no real education and no opportunities ahead of her, who’s lived through traumatic events, including abandonment at a grave site at the age of 4 after her mother's body was lowered into the ground. The few adults present during the brief funeral don't talk to her, explain nothing. They walk away. No one takes the little girl's hand to help her, to guide her, to take her to their homes. The attorney/program participant says she believes such a girl requires a special family, special care, special love. She’s decided that we’re that family, and she asks, “Would we be willing to take her?” I smile and say, "Sure." She looks at me, startled. "Don't you have to talk with your wife, Samahria?" This is a huge decision, she points out. We have adopted other children with challenges, I explain; so we understand what this means, and, again, I say, "Sure." Don’t I still need to talk with Samahria, she protests. “Yes," I answer, “but I can guess at her response.”
Samahria's "sure" came as quickly as mine did. People (program participants, friends, people we talked to later that day) stateside suggested that endeavoring to integrate a preteen from a developing country who has no family orientation, has been passed from person to person for several years, and has no real education is doomed to failure. However, Samahria and I didn’t predicate success on outcomes. The issues for us were the way we decided to show up and our willingness to do whatever we could do (as imperfect as that might be). Period. We wanted to show up again, as we had for our other children, now, for this little girl.
Did she initially refuse to learn English? Definitely. Did she refuse to go to school? Yes. Did she take care of herself by lying and stealing? Of course - doing her best based on what she had learned to survive. Did she refuse to accept love and express love? Absolutely - not just for days or weeks or months, but for years. She had great spirit, but lots of fears. However, the moments when she dared to trust, when she chose to open her heart, when she reached out to love and be loved - those were defining moments, no matter how fleeting, of miracles and wonder.
We can stand on the sidelines or grab hold of our humanity and reach out to help...whether that's to create a home for someone, feed someone who is hungry, hold the hand of someone frightened, offer love...or even a sincere hello and a smile or, perhaps, just a simple, nonjudgmental question to support a person wanting to understand herself. All that is required, each time, is to live with purpose - define who we are and what we want to do and contribute - and then choose the way to apply that purpose and take loving action.
(Photo of our adopted daughter)