The Blossoming of a Kazak Rose

The first time I met Olia in person was in a business meeting. She sat at the table next to me while we discussed her future with a group of people I never before had met. Seems like such an odd way to get to know someone. Indeed, it was odd. For both of us. And, looking back, I think she was understandably nervous and down right scared. That made two of us. In contrast, her older sister was poised, holding nothing back; answering all the questions and providing the moral support all the while. Olia only commented here and there with a few “Da’s”, Russian for yes. Until the moment when she got a question that really mattered to her, “What do you think about having brothers?” the translator asked. “Brothers,” she said, “Are for protecting sisters”. Now, if I was lecturing my boys AGAIN on the aspects of brotherhood, I could not have said it better myself. Except, from her I could feel the sweetness and sincerity of her tone that I lack. Truly she was an angel delivering a godly sermon, trapped in an 8 year old body. She then continued to string several sentences of beautiful Russian together and deep inside I knew we had turned our first corner.

Our first two days with the girls were so delightful. We spent all our time at the RBS, like an anthropologists in the rain forests of the Congo, trying to understand them and their environment. I guess, more than anything, we are hoping to gather clues about their circumstances that might allow us to help them in the future. Immediately, Olia was attached to Debbie and more than anything just wanted to be held. By the second day she was talking so fast that the translator, more or less, gave up trying to cover everything she said. Occasionally, I would grab her hand, give her a hug, but only to find that through a course of time she found her way back to her mother. I guess it’s only natural for a girl that age to want to be with her Mother, but what she was really looking for, and probably needing, was Mama. And Mama’s are for holding their daughters. And because the supply of food in her new found home has been good for her, I was happy to oblige.

Yesterday we met as a family for the first time and our little Angel took another step forward. She spent most of our time either holding my hand or the hand of one of her brothers. Jansen, of course, seemed to be her brother of choice; just as we suspected. He was so sweet and nurturing to her and they made a connection that I suspect with last throughout their lives. Age wise Denver is 3 months the younger and Jansen 6 months the older. Certainly, this new addition to our “2 musketeers” is the missing piece of the puzzle.

My dear Olia, as a brother with 3 younger sisters I could not agree more. Brothers are indeed for protecting sisters.

I’m not sure exactly why but the days here have been wearing me out and by 7 pm I’m bushed. Last night, I think I made it until 8:30 before I gave up the ghost. Shortly after I dozed off of the phone rang. Debbie responded to the call and I heard her say, “Yes, yes, yes! Oh, that is wonderful!” Igor, our translator, had spoken with the folks at the RBS and permission had been granted for the girls to visit us off-site for the remaining of our bonding period. Wonderful doesn’t even begin to describe it.

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