Lyuda's Quilts

One afternoon in Vladimir we visited what I will remember as the saddest place of all. I think it was known as a "social rehab center," a safe place for kids from abusive situations. Some parents have signed off their parental rights, thus leaving their children orphans of the state. This facility, in essence, is an orphanage for older kids.

In this place all the kids acted dutifully. Each one handed us a doll, each one said "puhzhalsta" ("you're welcome") when we said, "spaceeba." But there was a joylessness I don't know I'll ever shake from my memory. The only bright spot I saw was when Jaye accidentally messed up her magic trick. The trick was to pour water into a Styrofoam cup, talk a little to the audience (while the invisible powder gelled in the cup, unbeknown st to the audience) and then have the other volunteer turn the cup over on the person's head. Well, Jaye had not put enough magic powder in the cup, so it didn't gel. Lo and behold, the brave volunteer on the chair got her hair and face and clothes doused with the equivalent of Alka Seltzer.

Glory to God the trick didn't work, because it added laughter that may seldom be heard in that place.

After our group interactions, we were invited to the gift shop to purchase items made by the kids. What a feast for the eyes! Quilts and wall hangings, dolls and Christmas ornaments, hot pad holders and coasters, all made of fabric by some very talented girls. The most impressive to me were all done by a girl named Lyuda. Some were not for sale. The director called them"memory quilts"--for when Lyuda is no longer in the facility, they want to remember her by the quilts she made.

The first quilt I had to have was Sunflowers. I knew immediately it would be for my friend Barb in Kansas. (The KS state flower is the sunflower, which is like a gigantic form of the MD state flower, the black-eyed Susan.) The second quilt that actually was for sale (I had to pass up many that were in the "memory quilt" category!) was a patchwork quilt in red, blue, and green. Just the colors I decorate my family room with. Perfect. Easy-going pattern, good size for curling up under, not too heavy. It is a constant reminder to pray for Lyuda and those like her.


Why so sad? Olya told me later. "Lyuda just found out her best friend is being adopted. Her friend is sad. She doesn't want to be separated from Lyuda. They're like sisters." (In the group picture, Lyuda is holding the eggs. Her best friend is on the far left.)

It struck me hard that day: Adoption isn't always a welcomed thing. If the only half-decent life you've known is in an institution with someone who is as close as a sister can be, then of course you don't want to be adopted without her.
I fought back tears thinking of these haunting faces. The older they get, the sadder they are. They have been unwanted longer. They have been rejected by parents for more years than their younger "siblings." They can process why they are where they are.

God, help us all. Don't let me forget Lyuda and the millions like her. Be to her like a comforting quilt today.