It's A Small World

Unexpected friends at Hosanna's track meet ...


Just after arriving, and staking out a place to lay our blanket (there were no bleachers or stadium at this school), I began to look around.  There were a lot more people at this meet than I expected.  I thought it was going to be 2-3 small middle school track teams and a few parents.  Oh, no ... it was 5 or 6 track teams, and some of them were very large.  There were a LOT of people milling around, trying to find where best to stand, or lay down a blanket.  (The whole layout of the field is awkward, with the track being kind of in a hilly pit.  So, families were trying to position themselves on a scraggily hillside.)

The kids all plopped onto our 25 year old picnic blanket.  (It's a CRAZY homemade quilt ... I'll have to take a picture of it sometime.)  Papa and I stood chatting.  (Actually, a bit awkward, also.  To only see each other once a week, at a public track meet and to say, "Hi.  How are you?"  Not exactly the quality time that is so necessary for a marriage.)  I was glancing around at the other families since making out with my husband wasn't really an option when  I noticed some young African children standing in a group of women and teens.

Now, for those of you that are also the adoptive parents of black children, do you see black children and automatically wonder where they are from?  The interesting thing is that while I'm sure I used to just see black children and think "look at the cute black children", I am now getting pretty good at knowing guessing where they are from.  There are actually a lot of differences between most African Americans, Ghanaians, and Ethiopians (for example).

So hoping I don't offend someone.  I am so not up on the Politically Correct way of defining other races. Since my children were from Africa and are now Americans, than they of course are also African American, in addition to being Ghanaian.  But ... I hope you get the jist of that last paragraph.

As I noticed these children, I had to take a major DOUBLE TAKE.  Oh my ... there was a young boy that looked SO MUCH LIKE our former son, J.  Wow!  I hadn't seen him in 7 months, and he does not live nearby, but I had to really look closely to see if this might be him.  Then ... I wondered if the girls would see him.  I looked down onto the picnic blanket and both girls had their heads together, whispering.  "Girls, what are you talking about?" I ask casually.  "That boy down there."  "He looks like J."  "Is it him?"  I assured them that it was not J., but I can only imagine all of the mixed thoughts and feelings that were racing through their young minds.  So. Hard.

As I looked back up, I noticed that another mom had placed her blanket about 2 feet to my left.  She looked like a nice woman, but I didn't think much of it.  Until ... a young black girl comes up and starts talking to her mom.  "This young lady" I think, "looks like she is from Ethiopia."  She is one of the runners from the local school that we are visiting.  I wonder if this mom might be friends with the other family that has now walked to the center of the infield.  The other children, I believe, look very much like they might be from Ghana.  Oh so many similarities of this young boy, and our J.

As the young girl dashed back down to the track, and I wondered how I was going to start a conversation with this woman.  I don't usually just say, "Hi.  I noticed that you have a black daughter.  So do I."   Before I can say anything, though, this woman turns to me and says, "I believe that I recognize your daughters from a blog."  Oh my!  "Yes.  I'm sure that you do."  Wow!  This woman knew our story.  She too had an adoption nightmare story to share.  Instant bonding.  Ahhh ... someone that understands the TOUGH stuff.

(Now, I have to admit my "bad mama" part of this.  I kept looking back towards the track, to watch Hosanna run.  But ... I missed her first race.  Bad Papa ... he was supposed to nudge me and say, "Watch your daughter run."  Sorry Hosanna!)

As we were chatting, I asked if she happened to know the other family with the obviously African children.  Yes.  They attend the same church.  They homeschool together.  And, yes, the children are from Africa.  As a matter of fact ... they are from Ghana.  And ... they are from the same orphanage as my children.

Awhile later, I wonder down to the track.  I talk to the mother.  I meet the children.  (I have actually met  the mother before, and one of the children.  The little girl is the adopted sister of one of my girls' close friends from Ghana.  She was just visiting the track meet with her friends.)  And, the young boy who looked like J.?  He just arrived last month from Ghana. And, he knows my girls.  All 3 of these children know my girls.  They can't believe that I am Sarah and Rachel's Mama.  The young boy asks where J. is.

Back up the hill we head.  An adorable little 6 year old grabs my hand as we walk.  She is so excited to see my girls again.  It's been 2 years.

Yes, my girls remember all 3 of the children.  They exchange hellos.  They look at each other with a bit of wonder.  I wish I knew the thoughts going through all of their minds.  Their lives have changed so dramatically since they last saw each other.  They are new children, with new families, with new lives.  Does seeing each other bring up any of the pain from their past?  I don't know.

I can only imagine this young boy's thoughts.  He's only been in America for 1 month.  His life is a whirlwind.  He is at his first track meet, with 100's of people.  And ... there ... sitting on a crazy Picnic Blanket ... are 2 young girls from his orphanage, that he hasn't seen in 2 years.  Yes.  It is a very small world, indeed.