Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Remember?

Our new 41-family co-op started last Thursday, and I got not just one, but two special treats that day. They both were complete surprises, as if God was saying " I remember. How about you?"

The first treat came in the form of a little seven year-old boy named Wayne. Wayne had blond hair and clear blue eyes. His twin brother had slightly darker hair and eyes. I was told they were twins adopted from Russia. Immediately I tuned out the teacher (sorry, Marie) and the students (sorry, kids) and let my mind wander back to Vladimir. It was as if I was back in an orphanage and all was right with my world. Right until I was told the boys would only be in my class that one day because public schools had off for Rosh Hashana and they were just visiting.


Wayne plopped down right in front of me. He was fidgety, restless, chatty, playing with markers. A couple of times I leaned forward and whispered to him to try to sit still and listen to Miss Marie. The next time I patted his leg and he patted my hand and continued. The third time, he tapped markers and I drew circles on his back with my hand. He calmed down. I removed my hand and he leaned back on the slippery two back legs of his little chair. I tipped him forward, took his hand and whispered, "I'm afraid you'll fall back, honey. Please put your chair down on all fours." Well, he obeyed right away, but hung on to my hand. He studied it, turned it over, drew on it his with his thumb, and smiled up at me.

I smiled back. I just held his hand until Miss Marie passed out papers. Then let go. Wayne took a piece of paper, passed the rest on, and then turned around and motioned to me to hold hands again. It was the most special feeling in the world. He must still be craving a mother's touch, I thought. I wondered how long he had lived without one until he was adopted. It was if God was saying, "Remember?"


For this moment in time, I was not an art teacher's helper; I was a Russian boy's momma for an hour. I didn't want the class to end.

The second treat also came that day. It was a note I had written to myself before leaving Russia. "I would like each of you to write a note to yourself," our GAiN missionary team leader had said the last night we were in Russia. "Remind yourself what you learned here. You think you'll remember always, but you won't. In a couple months, I'll mail these to you. You will have forgotten about this note and some of the things you learned here already."

I doubted his words because I was so full. Spiritually, emotionally, mentally full. But he was right. I'll write the contents of that note tomorrow. The things God reminded me of are worth a post of their own.

4 comments:

Leanne said...

Zo, I never got your e-mail! That clarifies a few things :) I don't know why it never came through.

I'll call you later in the week - after I get the house clean since I'm hosting a caregroup social tomorrow - and we'll sort out something!

Zoanna said...

Ack! I'm sooooo sorry. I just checked and it's in my DRAFTS. How'd that happen? Yeh, that does clarify a few things.

Sacha said...

Zo! I just got mine too! I couldn't for the life of me figure out why someone was mimicking my handwriting! Then, silly me, I remember what I had (We had) done!! It was a blessing to receive it, although the memories have not left me. They are as vivid today as the day I got home! Praise God!

Zoanna said...

Sacha, all my memories are vivid, too, but what I wrote on the card weren't so much memories as "don't forget to do this back home."

Can you share any of yours on your blog?