Friday, September 5, 2014

My Little Preacher

I took him to school early a few weeks ago so that we could go in the gym where they were having a benefit sale.

Sweet boy loves sales.  Loves walking and looking for treasures that MAYBE Mama will buy for him.

We found a few.

A box full of cool Melissa and David toys for a few bucks. 

I didn't want to carry the box around so one of the older ladies running the sale kindly agreed to sit in a chair and watch our stuff while I continued to look around.

Aaron hung out with her.

And talked.

And talked.

I wasn't listening but I figured that he was wrapping his little self right into her heart. 

Because that is how my boy operates.

When it was time, I took him to his class and went back to retrieve my box.

I was right.

In his precious little Aaron way he shared his adoption story with her.  He told her that he had been born in Ukr*ine and his Mama and Papa came and got him from there.  And by the way, he says, if she wanted a baby, there were more where he came from!

He should know.

He spent five years living in this room.  Surrounded by other babies.

Of course she was elderly and quite over the age limit of adoption but that didn't stop my little preacher.

There are so many more where he came from.

Sometimes I feel that I have lost my moorings on this blog.

It was started over four years ago to record our journey for one little dimpled boy who had been transferred out of a baby house and dropped into a mental institute for severely mentally and physically disabled boys.

After seeing that institute - walking the grounds - realizing the sorrow - our hearts broke.

When we visited Aaron's baby house during our last days there we knew - we knew we had to do everything we could to yell so that children didn't go from this...

Aaron's crib

to this...

Aaron's shed

 I don't want to lose my way.

I don't want to forget why we chose to keep this blog open.

There are little babes laying in cribs who are desperately in need of families.

Babes who could be spared the cruelty of transfer. 

There are Lost Boys and Lost Girls who have endured transfer - some in institutes like Aaron. 

All in need.

I want to yell for them.

The little ones.  The desperate ones.

The ones aging out.

My Lost Boys.

Grady and Porter and Pearson and Dagmar

I want to get back to really yelling for them.

 The voiceless.  The babes laying in cribs unseen.

Unseen right here on this blog.

Go back.

Scroll back.

Look carefully at the picture of the cribs.

Do you see what we had a hard time seeing even standing in that room?

Do you realize that those cribs are not all empty.

There were babes in there.  Babes who were so silent that we barely knew they even existed.


Quiet.  Silent children.  Not because they were sleeping.  Not because they were sick.  Silent because crying does not bring a response.  Quiet because they lost their voices long before. Voiceless, quiet children.  Laying in cribs. Day after lonely day.  They didn't even make a peep despite the fact that we were standing in that room and talking loudly.  They didn't make a noise.  Their silence in that room shocks me. Calls me.  Compels me.

I do not want to lose my moorings.

I do not want miss the silent ones in the joy over the ones soon going home.

This precious precious girl was listed just a few weeks ago.



Look at her.  See past her diagnosis and LOOK at her!!  Precious precious girl.

She has NO money in her account. 

Do you see her knees?  Who kissed them when she fell?  Who dried her tears when they poured down her face?

Or this beautiful girl who ages out in a matter of months.


AnnaMarie (1)

This is what was shared about her on Facebook ....

A caretaker at her internat says Annemarie is really struggling right now, longing for a family. Many of her friends have been adopted in the last year but no family has come for her. She wants a family so badly -- aches for a family, cries herself to sleep because her longing for a mama and a papa is so strong and so painful.
Annemarie is not some hardened 15yo. She is a sweet, kind, smart, beautiful child who longs to be hugged and cuddled by people she can call "mama" and "papa," a family of her very own.

Someone does love Annemarie because she has just been given a $5,000 matching grant. 

I want to yell for her because she is so worthy.  So valuable.  A beautiful girl who has ONE desire.  A family.

I don't want to lose my moorings for these and so so many others.

They cry out to the deepest part of my heart.

I hear them.

Silent. Quiet.  Helpless. 


Just waiting to be found!

We are still trying to finish our final TWO products... When we are done I will be back.

In the meantime... would someone or two or three please go donate to Clementine and get rid of that 0.00 by her name?

And someone else or two or three or ten or more... donate to Annemarie and let's get her matching grant met....

And pray.

And pray some more.

Because two girls and four boys on this blog today need families. 

They need families.

Just ask Aaron.

My little preacher knows.



  1. Praying for each one. Thank you for sharing.

  2. I love that little preacher of yours... I love that he GETS it (severely mentally disabled, huh?) and that even at his young age he is already a voice for the voiceless ones he left behind. I pray that someday my son too will get it. In the meantime, his life tells the same story.

    I donated to sweet Clementine because as busy as I've been with my own orphaned-no-more boy, I too don't want to forget the ones I left behind...

  3. Missed reading your posts! Will keep praying for the children and look forward to reading/learning when you have time to advocate more.


Loving words from kind people make our hearts glad!


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