To Sing Frogs Chapter 38a

Chapter 38

 

She Wasn’t Gone After All

 

Amy and I were eating breakfast when Anya rushed past other adopting couples and up to our table. The grandparents were sleeping in. “John, Amy, I just saw the coordinator who handled Yula’s adoption!” she said excitedly.

“That’s great,” I responded. “How’s Yula doing?”

“I’m sure she’s fine. That’s not the point. Yula’s adoption was delayed too. Her court date is at 11:00 today. If we leave by ten we can wait in front of the courthouse. You can see Yula and you’ll be able meet her parents!”

Amy started crying.

“We have an hour before we need to leave?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Amy, take care of the check. I’m going to print pictures.”

I rushed from the table without another word. I traveled with a portable inkjet printer and photo paper so I booted up the computer and began making prints of every picture I had of Yula and Marina. Then I printed some of Sarah and a few of us.

 

Yula screamed and ripped her hand loose from her Spanish mother’s. She ran to me and I swooped her up. Those poor confused parents. The two adoption coordinators rapidly began to relay the story about the three little girls and Sarah’s prayers. Tears fell from faces and seeped into cracks between cobblestones. We rapidly exchanged contact information—names, addresses, telephone numbers. We promised to meet up later in our trip, after our court date and before their ten-day appeal period was over. I still had one present I wanted to give Yula.

 

 

Marina-Grigorievna was excited to hear we had met Yula’s parents and that our daughters would be able to keep in contact.

“What a miracle!” she squealed while light danced in her eyes.

“Yes,” I responded hopefully. “It’s a shame Marina can’t be a part of this.”

The social worker agreed. “It really is a pity.” She offered nothing more. Russia and its ridiculous laws.

“Would it be possible for us to visit Sarah’s orphanage one more time?” I asked.

“John. Please tell me you aren’t planning to adopt more children.”

“No. We’re finished. I have some pictures of Sarah for the director.”

Marina-Grigorievna was happy to provide me with the required written recommendation.

“How is little Katya doing?” the director asked Amy after a complete rundown of the pictures.

“She’s doing fine. She’s in first grade this year and while she is a little bit behind because of the language, she’s learning quickly. She has lots of friends and she seems to be happy in our family.”

We continued with meaningless talk for the next while. The woman was not nearly as excited as Olga and Tatiana were when provided with pictures and photos of our children who they had cared for. Before long I realized we were seen more as a distraction from the director’s other responsibilities than welcomed guests—even though she continued to be cordial. It was time to go.

“We should really let you get back to work,” I said. “I do have a request, though, if you could please help me.”

“I will if I can. What do you need?”

“Do you remember the stuffed bears that Katya left for Yula and Marina?”

 

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