Chasing Pigeons

Two days with this rambunctious little boy. Pure glee! Mad dash and made plane from Moscow to Murmansk with 1 minute to spare, luggage lost by Aeroflot, but all minor glitches compared to the momentousness of what's going on here.

There is so much to say about so much, major and minor, from the sun setting at 11:15PM and rising at 12:30AM, to the delicious blini with caviar for dinner (every night, if I have my way), to Boris our insanely aggressive driver in Moscow who laughs wickedly as he brushes by cars on the super freeway, to the no-nonsense jowly orphanage director smoking Winstons, to the disconsoling dreariness of the Soviet architecture, to the avoidance of eye contact and resolute refusal to smile by Russians on the street...

All secondary, of course, when it comes to Daniil and the other children I've had the privilege to meet in the wonderful Apatity Baby Home, purportedly one of the three best in Russia, out of hundreds if not thousands of orphanages. I'm not sure if Daniil remembered me and Baba (my mom, his grandma), but he warmed up within minutes. He's a whirlwind of energy--all boy--although I had energy to match him when I was three too--all girl--and still do now! We had the chance to play outside with 30 other children in his age group. One boy had no legs; the caregivers wrapped a canvas bag around his waist so he could drag and swing himself around the sandbox. He insisted on plopping himself in my lap. And then there was the little girl with Downs Syndrome who threw herself into my arms, clamped me in a leg-lock, and called me "Mama." Heart breaking. And another little girl with green eyes who said not a word.

All the while, Daniil was the little diplomat--when not tearing around the dirt playground, nose to the ground, vrooming a yellow truck at high speed. He cycled from group to group of children, stopping to swing, to slide, to play, then made himself at home on a bench with an adult couple and their little girl. I'd look over now and then, from my perch at the sandbox, surrounded by Russian children handing me dirt and sand (I pretended to eat), and there he remained, chatting away with the two adults and their child.

One of many favorite moments. We took Daniil into town to get photos for his Russian passport. Likely he's been into Apatity only once or twice before, if ever. He was mesmerized, literally bumping into things as his little head swiveled from side to side, taking in a puddle here, an old man there, a bright sign, a bunch of pigeons. Pigeons! Fun to chase and compel to fly a yard or two in the air! Then chase again! And again! And... a giant truck, oh no! (I pulled him out of the way in time.)

It's late, 11PM, still light, feels like 6, need to get to bed for the big court date tomorrow. I rehearsed this afternoon with my translator. She's represented many other families in court and said she's never heard anyone better prepared. In fact, I didn't prepare one wit. I only spoke the truth from my heart and, as is apparent to all who know me, shyness ain't one of my trademarks.

So barefoot if need be (shoes are in my lost suitcase somewhere in Moscow), I'll show up tomorrow and plead my case for my little solnyshko. I trust all will go well. God's will be done. May the blessings continue to unfold...