August 12, 9:09am- Ruslan is leaving in two more days. My biggest fear as of late has been that Ruslan wouldn't understand.....that he would think we were "sending him back" or that we didn't want him here. I have been anxious about this, and trying to come up with the words to explain.
When we decided to host, I thought I would be updating those on our prayer and support list weekly, if not more. I quickly came to learn that Ruslan has many facets and layers, and that unraveling them all would take more emotional and physical energy than I had ever anticipated. I apologize for the lack of updates, for the lack of dinners, for the lack of connectedness. I never intended for it to be that way. Ruslan had his last day of camp today....I am sorry I didn't connect with other host families that closely.......but I rest in knowing that our attention has been right where it needed to be these last three weeks....on Ruslan.
Ruslan is a wonderful little boy, whose heart carries a heavy burden. He is sensitive and puts up a facade to keep others at a distance. He has severe language delays, and is likely dealing with other developmental issues as well. He doesn’t fare well in the orphanage because he is so different. He lacks social awareness, self confidence and impulse control. But his heart is so full of love, and he has such a tender soul. He is loving, and fun, and has a great sense of humor. He is kind and gentle with Mason, and has opened up and learned to share and play cooperatively. They giggle and shriek and hide and seek and play like brothers. He is also very bright, despite what first impressions might leave people thinking.
The Lord has a way of answering prayer....and tonight that answer was bittersweet. My uneasiness about how to say goodbye to Ruslan was both stirred and calmed at once. Tonight, we were in Ruslan's room getting ready for bed. In his short time here, Ruslan has collected trinkets and treasures (happy meal toys from his travel here, fliers and business cards, art projects from camp, crayons, matchbox cars, etc.) He keeps these all neatly laid out on the table next to his bed. He has been reveling in having belongings of his own, with space to store them.
We had a normal evening….dinner, and then a little Wipeout (you know, "educational" TV) Ruslan and Mason played in their “fort” (made with two soccer goals and a blanket!) We all went upstairs to get ready for bed. It started with a box of stickers that Ruslan held up, and said, “zaftra”…..which means tomorrow in Russian. He then set them on the table in his room to play with tomorrow. I assumed he meant that it was bedtime now, but he would play with them tomorrow. He had some puzzle pieces in a sandwich size ziploc bag. Out of nowhere, he started cleaning up all of his toys and "treasures". He was leaving those stickers out for tomorrow, but the rest was getting packed! I watched as he methodically picked up each item and surveyed it. Some went in to his ziploc bag, and some he gave to me, gesturing that I should keep them.
He pulled out the backpack that he got off the plane with when he arrived, and my eyes just welled with tears. It occurred to me that he was packing. Packing to leave, preparing, and putting his belongings through a triage of sorts. The really special ones (like his new stickers and sketch pad, Bill’s Cary Fire Department hat, a firetruck matchbox car-Ruslan has said he wants to be a fireman like Bill when he grows up-) made it into the Ziploc, or the backpack if too big. All of the Noah’s ark animals he made in camp were given to me…except the zebra! The cross sand art he made was given to me…..an embroidered hankerchief he came with was given to me (though I tucked that one back in the bag…unsure if it might have belonged to a chaperone).
I knew in an instant that someone had reminded him that he would be leaving soon. And I was instantly relieved….and saddened. I was glad not to be the one to tell him that it was soon time to leave, but I hadn’t prepared for this so soon…but God’s timing is perfect! As my eyes grew wet with fat tears that inevitably streamed down my cheeks, this brave little boy continued to pack up his belongings. He was matter of fact, a man on a mission, and with every toy that went in the bag, or in my hands, my heart broke a little more. For every item that had been “his” while he was here, he would ask permission to pack it, or to give it to me. When I affirmed him, his face just beamed.
It broke my heart to think of these things…HIS things….being shared with so many children and lost in the shuffle…nothing really “belonging” to one or the other. Kids will be kids, and I thought of his dear treasures getting broken or taken or lost. He pointed to his laundry pile and raised his arms in the air as if to say, “What do we do about these…I need to pack them but they are dirty?” I told him we could wash them “zaftra”. He was pleased with that, and then began to empty out his little dresser, gesturing to see if he could take the clothing home with him. I told him he could, and he was so excited! (You may remember he came with one pair of socks and tennis shoes, a sweatshirt, swim trunks that were too small, and an airline magazine!) He counted how many extra socks he was leaving with and placed them in the bag. He gestured that the sweatshirt was to keep him warm on the plane and put that in the bag. He found a long sleeve dress shirt, a polo shirt and a long sleeve knit shirt that he never wore while here. He was so excited that they still had the tags on them, and he carefully folded and packed them.
When he saw my tears, he remained brave….saying only “Mama” and then gesturing tears down his cheeks with his two index fingers. I used the translator to ask why he was packing things (I didn’t want to assume he knew something he didn’t….he has a natural tendency to load items into any bag, case or compartment he can find so I just wanted to be sure what I sensed was accurate.) He pointed to himself and then gestured his hand through the air like an airplane. Then he said “Bill?” and pointed out the window (indicating where Bill was at work) and then gestured crying. He wanted to know if Bill was at work, also feeling sad that Ruslan was leaving. I reminded Ruslan that we love him, and that when you have to say goodbye to someone you love, it is ok to feel sad. I asked him if he was sad, and he bravely responded “no” and when on packing……for a minute, then he turned back to me and nodded a teary-eyed “yes”. He crawled in to his bed and hid his face.
I told him it’s ok to be sad, and that he didn’t have to hide from me. I reminded him that it is hard to say goodbye to someone you love. He sat up, and folded himself into my arms, and just sobbed big sobs. I just held him, this broken little boy, and let him sob. And I sobbed too.
I reminded him that he is our friend….that we love him….that he is smart and strong and brave. That he is handsome and good. That he will grow up and do great things. I told him that people can rip his paper, break his toys, take his things, hurt him, etc. but they can never take away our love for him, or the memories in his heart. He then drew a heart shape over his chest. I told him if he is at the orphanage and people are hurting him, or his things, he can just remember that his memories and the love in his heart are forever. He then gestures as if someone is hitting him, and then he waves them away in dismissal as if it doesn’t matter and traces a heart over his chest.
I told him through the translator that I know it is hard for him to be at the orphanage. He nodded yes, and continued to cry. I explained that sometimes God brings us through hard times so that we can grow stronger. I told him if he is ever feeling sad at the orphanage, he can hug his pillow and think of us, and we’ll be hugging ours too. He demonstrated on his pillow with a grip so tight it seemed he was holding on for dear life…..and I knew, in fact, that he was.
I told him he could write us a letter. He got up and got a book off of our bookshelf, then pointed to himself, shook his head no, and pointed to the words in the book. He was telling me he can’t write/understand English. I told him it would be okay to write in Russian, and my friend would help me read it. He then found a CD player, and put in a lullaby CD. He curled up on the floor and put his head in my lap. We talked for a bit more, he said “I love you” a few times into the translator, and then he climbed in his bed, curled up and fell asleep.
My heart aches for this little boy, thrown away at birth, lacking in the simple pleasures of childhood….someone to hold him and rock him as an infant, someone to help him with his language development, to feed his self esteem, to encourage his spiritual growth, to tuck him in at night, to be there for him when he is afraid, or sad, or sick.
I know there are children all over the world…all over America…all over Raleigh in similar situations…..and I know you can’t save the world. But I also know we are called to care for widows and orphans, and I know I can’t deny the light and the hope and the promise that we see in this little boy.
We are so blessed, and so thankful to have shared our hearts and our home with him.
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