To Sing Frogs Chapter 7c

Katya with her bag of animal cookies, soft book and her new parents-to-be.

“What did you have for dinner?” Stass translated for my wife as Katya climbed on to her lap.

As she attempted to reply the child’s belch not only gave away the scent of what dinner had been but also that it had been consumed like global-warming hurricanes eat Louisiana.

“Whew! Chicken soup,” Amy ejected while waving her hand in front of her face to clear the foul and lingering air. Stass asked Katya anyway.

“Yeah. Chicken soup,” he confirmed. We all laughed.

Amy gave Katya a big hug and picked up a stuffed bear she had treated with my cologne before we left. “This is from Papa.” My new daughter pulled the bear in close and hugged it. Her chest grew beyond capacity as she breathed in deeply. Then my wife handed her a baby-blanket smelling of her perfume. “This is from me.” Katya grabbed the blanket with her other hand and hugged it so both arms clutched her new gifts. Before that moment, the only thing she had ever owned was the standard sole possession of a young Russian orphan—a toothbrush. She continued with her embrace while breathing deeply, filling her lungs with the scent. Then she alternated between smelling the two presents before she spoke to Stass.

“Katya says the bear smells like Papa and the blanket smells like Mama,” he translated. Amy smiled. Mission accomplished in using a nose to bond.

I placed a candy-bead necklace over the little girl’s head and she grinned at me. Then I handed her a Rice-Krispy treat. She was enamored with the blue foil. She gasped and it looked as if she might cry when Amy tore it open. Stass convinced the child to take a bite. Ecstasy filled her face and stars appeared in her eyes.

End of round one. Check sight, hearing, touching, smell, and now taste from the list of senses implemented in the attachment process. It was only day one. Amy’s plan would call for a constant application to every sense as often as possible while our visit continued over the week. Even then, the soft books, cassette tapes, blanket, stuffed animal, and candy treats—for her and her friends—were in place to continue the barrage when we left.

We convinced Katya to try a piece of candy from the necklace even though she was against the idea. How could she wear a necklace if she ate it? Katya had never owned a necklace before. She decided to humor us. I thought the elastic would snap and send beads into orbit when she pulled as hard as she could with her hands in a tug-of-war against her teeth. Stass saved the day. He rushed forward and grabbed her hands. Tension was quickly released from the elastic while he explained that she needed to bite off the beads rather than pulling them. Katya shrugged. She bit off two of the now-slimy candies then dropped the necklace back around her neck.

“She says she likes the biscuit better,” Stass translated as Katya took another enormous bite from the Rice Krispy treat. When the “American Biscuit” was gone, Katya looked up into Amy’s comforting sapphire eyes and dove forward for another hug.

After their embrace, Amy placed Katya feet-first on the floor. Then she got up and grabbed the little girl by the hand. Mother and child walked to the second-story window where they were framed along with the background of a breathtaking snow-scape. They stood together in a scene highlighted with the soft blues, pinks, purples, and oranges of a painted winter sunset. The glow of the colors on snow surrounded their forms and made it feel like it could be warm if they continued to hold perfectly still. “Do you know where the sun is going?” Amy asked through the translator. She didn’t. “When the sun goes down in Russia it goes to America.”

Katya hid her smile and enormous dimples behind a fist as she questioned Stass’s words just to make sure. He smiled back and nodded to confirm the mother’s explanation.

 

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