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Sasha's Rebirth
Written by Larry Taunton
Thursday, 06 May 2010 08:15
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Precisely one year ago we were in Kiev, Ukraine. Spur of the moment flights leaving that country are not easy to find, and since we could not know when we would be permitted to leave with our new daughter, it was impossible to make advance arrangements to fly home. When we finally received approval, Linda Templeton, our travel agent, managed to find a flight that required a fifteen-hour layover in Paris. At the time, this did not sound ideal. After a year-long adoption process (the last five weeks being spent in Ukraine), we were ready to be home. Paris, however, turned out to be a special treat. Cash poor, I nonetheless managed to rent a taxi minivan and, for a few hours that evening, we sped through the city taking in the sights. Lauri and the boys had never been in Paris. Sasha had never been out of Odessa, Ukraine. And while I had been in Paris many times before, this visit seemed magical. A crisp, clear night, the Louvre, Eiffel Tower, Champs Elysees, Notre Dame, and the Arc de Triomphe were bathed in light as if reflecting the glow of our uplifted spirits. Sasha’s eyes were wide with wonder, and though we did not have time to spend more than a few minutes at each site (most were closed anyway, due to the lateness of the hour), it didn’t matter. The next morning we boarded our final flight home. When the wheels touched the ground at Hartsfield International Airport, Sasha, up to that moment a Ukrainian citizen, became a citizen of the United States of America. Immigration and Naturalization officers congratulated her. My, what a journey it has been! A year later, her worst fear—learning English—has largely been overcome. Yes, she speaks with a heavy accent and, when she talks a blue streak, we can’t understand her, but no longer is communication a mixture of charades, Pictionary, and broken Russian and English. Not only an American citizen, it seems that she has always been a member of our family. “Do you remember what you thought about America before coming here?” I asked. ““Some kids [at the orphanage] tell me it a bad place, but I say I no believe them,” she said earnestly. “I think it a good place, and I want to go there.” “Why did you think that? You had never been here.” I was genuinely curious. Had she seen a movie or had someone told her that? “I think that because of Michael, Christopher, Zachary, and Mommy.” Wow. Sasha’s entire image of America had been formed from an encounter with my wife and children during their short-term mission trip to Odessa in the summer of 2008. When others tried to dissuade her from being adopted, Sasha obstinately refused to believe their lies because of the enduring impression Lauri and the boys had left upon her. If you ever thought that (seemingly) small, everyday interactions with people you barely know don’t matter, think again. Before falling to sleep, she said, “I wanted a mommy and daddy and bruhdahs [i.e., brothers]. I never have one before.” Opening her eyes briefly and seeing Blitz, our German Shepherd, sitting in her doorway, she made one small addendum: “and I want[ed] a dog, too.” When considered from this perspective, the simple pleasures in life—family, a home, and, yes, even a dog—don’t seem so simple. “Oh, Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever!” – Psalm 30:12 ____________________________ |
May 1, 2010, marked the one-year anniversary of Sasha’s exodus from Ukraine.1 This is fitting since “May Day” is a major celebration in Eastern Europe—particularly Ukraine and Russia—symbolizing spring, new life and rebirth.2 To mark the occasion, we had a little party for our girl and reflected on her own renaissance. It has really been a remarkable experience. 
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