We were standing outside an orphanage, waiting for the drivers to unload our donations. I stood by like a helpless American while they hefted huge boxes down from the tops of their vans. A nearby window was open and there's nothing like a group of ferengis* to draw a crowd. In mere moments, the window was crowded to capacity with little arms straining to reach us. Their noses were drippy, their clothes were dingy and their eyes held unreserved, unwavering hope. They all said the same haunting word over and over.
Ah-by-ay, ah-by-ay, ah-by-ay...
Daddy? Daddy? Daddy?
Are you my daddy?
As hard as it was to leave Sophia behind, it was bitterly more heartbreaking to leave these children. Sophia had a family. She was desired, loved and cherished. I was coming back for her. No one was coming for these children. Despite this horrible truth, their hope remained undimmed during our entire visit at their orphanage.
I firmly believe there are people reading these words, knowing God is telling you it's time. Your family is missing someone around the dinner table. Your movie nights need another child snuggled next to you on the couch. There's one more stocking to add to the mantel.
And somewhere there is a child waiting for you to be their ah-by-ay and eh-my-ay.**
Irreparably Broken For The Better,
P.S. I want to address ways other than adoption to help the orphan, but first will you please, please, please with a cherry on top spend earnest time in prayer, seeking God's heart for your family and keeping an open mind?
*Amharic for "non-black foreigner".
**It's probably obvious, but Amharic for "daddy" and "mama".