Last Day in Kiev

It was still dark, and there was snow in spots, when our train rumbled into the station at Kiev. I had wakened before the purser tap-tapped on our door, and made quick work of brushing my teeth and all, before the boys awoke. The sun was just rising as we gathered around a taxi which was to take us and our stuff back to our same apartment just off Tolstoy Street.

Knowing Dima's tight schedule, we should have made a quick stop somewhere for a loaf of bread, but didn't. So we laughed over our fast breakfast of the remaining cookies and hunk of cheese, some of which we were glad for during the long wait at the American Medical Clinic. While there, the kids waited sweetly and patiently for their appointments and then again for their X rays. They passed the time laughing and chatting away in Russian with the receptionist. It seems whenever Sasha is in the conversations, there is laughter.

We did have an interview with the doctor who told us that Zhenya was far sighted, which we knew, and that Sasha had a strabismus, which we knew, and that they recommended treatment for a positive TB test with 6 months on a drug called INZ. That their X-rays showed absolutely clear, good-looking hearts and lungs and chests. Tidings of comfort and joy. Also that Sasha really would require an improvement on the plastic surgery to his ear. Again obvious. Later in the plane he complained of that ear during decompression in the plane, which is encouraging in that it could mean there is an ear drum in there. This is something a little guy could use, who sings constantly and has already had his first piano lesson from Mom after one day home.

All this took until about noon, and we left for our Embassy appointment, feeling the bond growing between us and our new sons. During this time Zhenya began calling us Mom and Dad and we began calling him by his new name James, which he was "bery, bery, bery happy" about. Sasha we called Peter, leaving both his and James' Ukrainian formal names Eugene and Alexander intact, but anglicised. Peter prefers to call us, "My Mama" and "My Fader". I love how he will say, "Oh, Mama!" when I do something unexpected, like ride the bike. And why shouldn't he snuggle up and say with a happy, little laugh, "My mama"? I respond with, "My son," and we laugh with the joy of it all. This the first time in 11 years that he has known either parent.

Our medical appointment took until about noon, and we left for our Embassy appointment. With us we carried large, sealed envelopes with X-rays for U.S. Immigration, which we were to bring carefully with us to London, England, and then later through the long lines in Dallas to the give to the Immigration officer, who when he saw them, merely smiled and waved them aside, saying they were souvenirs for us, that he didn't need them.

Back in Alex's car we headed straight for the U.S. Embassy, went through the security check and on to a second building, where we were asked into the Private Room to be interviewed by a pleasant woman from our neighboring state of Arkansas. After going over our 1-600 Petitions to bring orphans into U.S., and applications for American visas for them, it was decided that our two boys would accompany us to their new home.

Marked in my Bible next to a promise in the Psalms about"favor from the Lord" is the date January 5, 2004. All year long we have been holding God to this promise, and here was yet another evidence of its fulfillment. He has been so good to us. He is the kindest Person I have ever met.