The First Year of Forever

One year. We have known him for one year. How much we have all changed in one year.

We saw him, on our second trip to the orphanage (because no one remembered that this was his day and sent him to school), walk shyly around the corner. It was such a scary day. We were nervous, yes, but he was terrified. Everything he had known and loved for the last three years was being yanked away with the arrival of these three, tall white people. We knew that he would be loved and tickled, read to and wrestled with; that he would be fed abundant food and tucked cozy into bed each night. We knew he would learn and grow, would make new friends, would be surrounded by a close, caring community.

But he didn't know any of that. Oh, how brave he was.

Okay, everyone, this is your new family. So, um, smile!

He had such impeccable manners those first days. I won't lie and say I didn't enjoy it, but I worried for him. Six year old boys aren't meant to sit prim and proper, frozen by fear into acquiescence. We won't leave you if you spill your milk, I wanted to say. It's okay to ask for more, there's plenty. But we didn't have the words.

Of course, good table manners were quite helpful considering the teeny, tiny size of our little bistro table.

So much has happened in that one year. He has grown and changed so much I can hardly believe it looking back on our first days and weeks and months. Last May the size four pants we packed for Africa needed cuffed at the bottoms and cinched at the waist. Last week the size six uniform shorts I bought were too small. "I'm seven, Mum!" he reminded me. "I need seven clothes."

Double to the fence. I love to watch him run.

Last summer we struggled to learn shapes and colors and the alphabet. We visited school every week, trying to calm his panic at the sight of classrooms, kids. The closer August loomed, the more we dialogued and debated. He's not ready. Is he ready? What should we do? Should I quit my job and stay home with him? What's best for him? What's best for us? This week he bounced into his classroom, prince of the place. "Mrs. Wagganah, can I read to Mum?" He pulled out his brand new book and read the first two pages with nary a hesitation. 

When reading to Grandma becomes more important than eating lunch.

Nowadays his manners aren't quite as pristine. Sometimes he's sassy and disobedient. On purpose. Sometimes he gets on yellow light at school for talking too much. He doesn't sit huddled on my lap at softball games anymore but instead mooches rides on Coach Rice's tractor and climbs the fence for foul balls. He runs in and out of the house with a posse of little boys and they track in mud and eat all the popsicles and forget to close the door.

He's still so brave. And he's oh, so loved. The first year of forever.

This is your family. What an amazing smile!