By madrid23 on February 09, 2012
Featured Member Post
The roads, leading to the orphanage, were muddy from heavy rain. Puddles so large it seemed, at times, they might swallow the small car I was riding in. After some twenty-five minutes maneuvering through traffic, the orphanage was finally in sight! Once allowed through the security gate, my husband and I were taken into the family area, where we waited to meet our girl.
I rubbed my hands together and blew into my palms, warming them in preparation for this long-awaited greeting. I quickly took off my sweater and raincoat, I wanted to feel my daughter against my skin! “Tiblet,” as they called her, (meaning: Let Her Be Greater), was brought to us by her caretaker. The woman placed our baby in my husband’s arms. He, then, placed her in mine. I said, through tears, “She’s perfect!”
I meant that!
Okay, some might argue that Tiblet was actually small for her suggested 10-months of age. She was malnourished and clearly ill with heavy cough and congestion, watery eyes, and diarrhea symptomatic of parasites. Tiblet did not smell of baby powder and sweet-scented lotion. She was not clean from a fresh bath and dressed in the finest of clothes. She had been layered into several pieces of mismatched garments (most of them size 3 months), keeping her warm in the bone-chilling air.
This tiny stranger stared at my face for several minutes. Then, as if she realized her parents had finally arrived, my daughter rested her head on my shoulder and quietly nodded off to sleep. I recall, even through my own exhaustion, feeling a sense of complete and total happiness.
It’s been over one-year since we brought our little Ethiopian princess home. Now two, she is a loving and feminine force in our home. I had gone to Ethiopia to help an orphaned baby girl. In the process, she has opened up my eyes to the greatness I possess within, the greatness we all possess within. The meaning of her name was divinely inspired, I believe.
Tiblet’s delivery breathed the message: Let Her Be Greater, into my soul.
My children are from different parts of the world. They are of different race, color, and culture. Some might call us a “multi-cultural” family. I guess that’s true. Yet, in our minds, we’re simply a family. We love one another, look after one another, teach one another, and bring out the best in each other.
As a mother, when I do turn on the television, it seems that the world is very different outside of our home. Governments gunning down their own, countries using threatening tones, people damning each other because of differences, perceived or real. Political elections where dirty laundry is welcomed and not put in a hamper where it belongs. People creating lines of division, over fear, over an unwillingness to listen, to understand, to let down the walls and let love in.
Oh, if the world could only experience the beautiful blueprint of adoption! The working manuscript of family that is created, not solely through biology or nationality, but completely out of love. If society could only adopt this type of attitude, well, the world really would be a better place.
Yes, I have delivered three children. They are the most incredible people I know. They are the greatest contribution I could ever make to this world.
I watch them, together, and I believe in peace. It manifests itself right before my eyes!
Delivering my children has taught me the power of forgiveness, the power of pure joy, and the power of authentic & divinely inspired living. Perhaps, I could have learned these lessons on my own, but I highly doubt that. I was waiting on three little messengers, so happy they finally arrived!
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