Poppet in Addis Ababa

One of my e-friends who just went to Ethiopia to bring home her daughter carried a package to Poppet from me. She was allowed to take some pictures and sent them to me after she got back a few days ago.

Some of these pictures provide a bit more of a context - the schoolroom, the toddler house, the boys' bedroom... It helps me to visualize the life that Poppet is leading right now, with his friends and caregivers. Yes, he does have a life of his own, which is about to change irrevocably. I know that it will be a big change, but seeing his happy smile and how he is surrounded by friends helps to bring that reality closer...

We adoptive parents tend to think and talk about our children "waiting for us" on the other side of the world. In a sense that is true, especially among the older children who are aware that they have a new family who will be coming to take them far, far away... I wonder, sometimes, how much that "waiting" is tinged with anxiety and perhaps even dread, as opposed to the eagerness we parents feel. I'm sure there is an element of eagerness, of yearing to have a mother (and father) of one's own, to be part of a family... But even so, it is a big, big thing to ask of a child, to leave everything familiar - friends who are the only family he knows, the ever-so-comforting sights, sounds, smells, the very texture of one's life - to leave all that behind and forge into the unknown, bravely, or at least with the appearance of bravery...

And above all, we don't even ask them, these children of ours. They are small, powerless, without a voice. Birthparents make decisions for them that will change the course of their lives; adoptive parents on the other side of the world make decisions that will carry them far, far away from their origins, agencies, caregivers, governments, international bodies all make decisions that will tear them away from the fabric of their known existence and patch them onto a new cloth with an unfamiliar weave... And they have no say in the matter.

Yet they thrive. With hiccups, bumps, and scratches along the way, and sometimes not without a struggle. The melding of former fabric into the new cloth may not be invisible: there may be some loose ends, oddities of texture, a few stray threads... But still, they are whole.

Would we accept a similar fate with as much grace?

They are so resilient, these children of ours.

My beautiful boy:

Poppet being shown the gift package sent by his new mama,

with a friend looking on:

Poppet and friends:

Poppet (right) in classroom:

(If anyone can identify some of the other children in these photos, I'd appreciate knowing who they are.)