LIVING FOR THE MOMENT

I often think about living for the moment, making the distinction between that and living “in” the moment in a more ongoing way. These days people talk a lot about living in the moment, not being dragged down by the past or influenced by the drive for future things. For me, living for the moment means to be present enough to fully experience what moment I have been blessed to witness, or be a part of, that serves to inspire or teach me. I use this philosophy to listen carefully for the one thing I attended a class to hear, the one word or sentiment I need to get from my children that day, or the directive I am given in order to keep me clear about my work. Specifically, I look for clarity about the direction I need to take Heartsent in, by paying special attention to finding “the moment”  when I take a trip abroad.

Two days ago I returned from China, where I was privileged to be a part of a two week trip with 7 families traveling there to meet and bring home their new daughters. Being able to go to China during the time of the New Year was very special, as this was the time of year my husband and I adopted each of our own 3 daughters from China in past years. It is also the time of year when there are celebrations all around China, when hopes for the New Year are raised and families get together to express their closeness. Whenever I get to accompany families who are meeting their new daughters for the first time, it is also a time of great anticipation and love, as each family opens to the experience and is filled with the wonder of holding their child and discovering who she is. There are always “moments” for me on these trips, so I eagerly wait for them and try to stay open to the opportunities  presented to me. On this recent trip I had the surprise and good fortune to have several such moments.

We were able to visit an orphanage. It is always an opening experience to be able to go to an orphanage in China. Even the exceptional ones, and there are many these days, bring up many feelings for me. First, you see the children who are fortunate to receive good care from loving staff and a dedicated orphanage director. Second, you see the children who are new to the orphanage-  1-3 week old infants so bundled in their layers of clothing and blankets you can only see their little faces poking out as they sleep in rows of cribs. If you meet one of the infant’s eyes, you see a mixture of openness, wonder and concern. Some appear to be sad. Some seem so alive and eager to meet the world. Others appear to be blank as they lie deep inside, guarding themselves from the world which is so strange and scary to them. I look into the eyes, this often gives me the moment I came to experience, and gives me the reason I need in order to keep doing the work that we do at Heartsent. This last week, I received my moment in another way.

At the orphanage there was a room for the handicapped children living there. Many were older, probably about 8-10 years, but there were younger babies there as well. All were being cared for in a loving way, from caregivers who did their best everyday to attend to the many needs the children had. The families in our group had differing feelings about seeing the handicapped children, some expressing deep sadness at the sight, knowing that these were the children who would most likely not get out of the orphanage but would live their lives without parents to love them. Other rooms in the orphanage were more inspiring to see, children playing with toys and with each other, caregivers providing food and diaper changes as in all baby nurseries around the world. This room, found in most every orphanage in China, has a special draw for me. It has always been important to me to see the children who may not ever leave the orphanage. I have never understood it completely, but I know this has been true for many years. My mission is to find homes for the children needing them, but part of my mission has also been to recognize that many children will never leave their first home, and many will never receive even minimal love from a single human being who will become important in their life. I realize that the caregivers do the best they can, and most really love the children and are dedicated to providing wonderful, loving care to them. There is also a reality of daily life in the orphanage, however, that naturally limits what a child can receive there. Last week I saw the chance to experience loving care to children who others would turn away from. I got to meet the children who would not leave the orphanage, and who would not know the feeling of a parent’s loving arms. My moment in that room did not come from the children alone. Three times I went into that room, and three times  different feelings arose inside. The last time I went with one of the adopting fathers into the room, and explained briefly what we were seeing. I felt him immediately open to the room, open to the children, and kneel down to take in all that he could with the utmost concern for the dignity of the children being provided for. In this room we both saw that the children were being fed, in more ways than one, and that the caregivers who did this every day were ministering to them with simple love and compassion. What many of us shy away from or feel so saddened by was the daily life of these caregivers, some of them handicapped themselves. You could easily imagine that whenever visitors come to see this orphanage and this room, the visits would be quick and the looks on the faces of the visitors might be difficult for the caregivers and children to see. In the case of the adoptive father who I went in with that day, there was a desire to open to the children and give them respect and the loving touch they needed. I think the importance of that third visit to the room of the handicapped children was the openness of this adoptive father, who had so much in his heart and who wanted to give what he could to those who needed so much. In those moments, we know we can never give enough. In those moments we see the reality, we see the great need, and all we can really do is give what we can in those few moments and then remember.

Other moments on this recent trip included hearing from Chris, our Coordinator and close friend, about one of the first babies he found on the streets of China.  He told us that after finding her, he delivered the small baby girl to a local hospital for care and then when he went back a day later to check on her,  he found her already dead on the same bench he was told to leave her on the day before. It left me speechless to hear this story, and I know there are many others in this man’s life that he could tell us about. Having grown up in an orphanage himself, he knows only too well what children desperately need but lack in orphanage life. We join in our mission to help these children, but weep for those who do not make it out, to families who can love them and care for them, and give them a chance at life. I also witnessed the love that each family had for their new daughter, as they opened their hearts and arms to them over the two weeks of our trip together. So much tenderness and concern was shown to each child, so much delight in their growth each day. There were many special moments shown to me in this trip.

I always feel lucky to be able to travel with families. I do it as often as I can. When I am surrounded by such openness and love on the one hand, and despair and sadness on the other, it is an opening of the soul that cannot be described. Perhaps it is in the opening that my moments truly come, no matter which side of life I am witnessing. When I can experience my own opening, I am allowed to see what is truly important and from that comes my direction to continue my work. Coming home again happens through the opening to that part of myself, as well as the literal coming home when I am met by my family at the airport in the United States. The meaning of family is made more clear to me through these trips, as I see that we are all part of the family of humankind, and it is our privilege and obligation to touch each other’s lives in important ways. All of these moments strung together create in me a valuing of the preciousness of life and gratitude for my being able to play an important part in the lives of so many. How lucky I am to be able to do this work. It is hard at times, but never harder than what the children endure until they find their homes. It is sad at times, but never so sad as those children who cannot leave the orphanage to find their parents.  With these things in mind, it is easy to keep going, and to have a perspective about life. My thanks are always to the parents who allow me to go with them on these journeys, and to those souls (young and old) who help me find “my moment” on each trip.

Val Free 2/05