A Month Later

It is hard to believe that it has been a month and nine days since we came home with our boys. They are so dear and loving. Even when we have a little tmes of feeling sorry for themselves because something doesn't go their way, it doesn't last. Today I shared the story of Pilgrim's Progress with them. I explained that Jesus took all our burdens, bad thoughts, sins, and sadness on Himself when He died. They were very attentive.

After I had drawn a Cross at a crossroads Peter took the pencil and revised the picture to show one road heading downward to some black scribbles and one heading upwards. So we put clouds of glory at the end of that road and I wrote CHOOSE at the top of the page. I know ultimately it is God who draws them to Himself, but the freedom to choose daily between Happy and Gloomy means letting Jesus give you His joy or not.

James listened carefully with wide eyes fixed on me and, after having had a gloomy morning, changed to the point where he was hugging me and very solicitous and helpful. When I had a short rest on the couch, he came and covered me with an afghan and Peter turned out the lights.

They are now telling stories on the front porch rockers. The other night was the evening Bob and I used to go for Date Night before the boys came. When Maggie called from college offering to babysit if we'd go out for a date, we took her up on it and told the boys what we were doing. They got all silly and excited, and talking about "kissy kissy', and James set up two rockers out where we could see the full moon.

Today Bob came home for lunch and we four sat and chatted at the table, the boys doing very well indeed with their English. They discussed sports and the future plans for them to sign up for basketball and soccer at school. At one point Bob mentioned "as your English gets better and better."

James looking puzzled. Then he said, "Excuse me, Dad, what is this "better and better". I am thinking you say my English is bad and bad." Bob corrected him and explained comparatives and superlatives, "good, better, best" and "bad, worse, and worst". At another point James teased Bob when he referred to their new German grandmother as Oma. Oma in Russian means stepmother. James said, "Oh, Dad, Remember, only English at the table!"

Ten Rules

We felt that since God waited a while after He delivered the Israelites out of bondage in Egypt before giving them the House Rules, we'd do the same with our boys. For the fifty days between the Exodus and Mt. Sinai, when He laid down the Law, He mostly just nurtured them, loved on them, protected them, fed them and clothed them.

Over the past month, we have spoken with our boys about swearing and about obeying their parents, but apart from that Bob had not given them a formal lesson on The Ten Commandments or an explanation as to how God is the One responsible for setting the rules at our place.

So today he did it. In simple English he went down the list in Exodus 20. The boys seemed to understand. Almost too well they interjected with enthusiastic dramatizations of "Thou shalt not steal" and "Thou shalt not kill", and looked down at their laps when he explained about taking the Name of the LORD in vain.

The law of the Lord is sweeter than honey in the honeycomb. Later they wanted to sing The Lord is My Shepherd along with Keith Green.

I'll Never Leave You

Today we did much better at walking in God's Spirit than we did yesterday. Yesterday was Pout Day and much time was wasted, until one of us decided to be happy. The English teacher was not at all amused... but today we did things differently.

Sitting on the edge of his bed this morning, I'd asked James if he would comply today with my wishes. He sweetly agreed, but within two minutes, that resolve was tested. I firmly held him to his promise, and things went well.

During the day, whenever he'd would suggest an alternative to what I'd just instructed him to do, I'd say firmly, "No, I will decide what we will do." All day long I gave him only two or three choices, and the day ended without even one negative episode. If he is going to develop that God given ability to lead, he needs first to follow well.

At breakfast we drew an oolitsa, a road, on the table top and made two finger people walking along it. One was Jesus. Jesus stayed consistently on the straight road, and as long as the other person stayed next to Him they were safe and happy. When Peter made his finger person stray to the edge of the table and fall off, "Jesus" reached down to pull him back up to safety. Jesus never, ever left him.

Yesterday I had left them in their beds at rest time to run to the school to pick up Rob. In those ten minutes, the two of them had huddled on one bed and called Skipper to join them. Peter dramatized for me when I returned how he had shivered in fright when Skip had barked. It was then I realized those little kids had probably never been alone at the orphanage.

However, James told me that one day his mama had left him, walked away and not come back. He was eight years old and had to find work. So, when I taught them Jesus' words, "I will never leave you," his eyes went very big and fixed on mine. So did Peter's. I said, "Mom will never leave you either." These little guys have a familiarity with life and death that most other children their age have hardly touched. So I told them that even if some day Mom should die, Jesus would still never leave them.

Like Peter and James, I need Jesus nearby all the time. He is my dearest Friend and Counsellor. He said, "without me you can do nothing," but that He'd never leave me. Life with Him is a good, straight path full of interesting and wonderful blessings. All His ways are so beautiful. Praise God.

Last Evening with the Girls

Tonight was the girls' last evening before they return to New York, so we roasted two chickens and boiled potaotes to mash. When James saw the potatoes he asked, "Please may I mash them? Butter in them?" I asked how he knew how to do that and he said, "My mama. When I had headache, she make for me, and I mash."

I was glad for him to have a sweet memory of his mother, and before I lost the nerve I asked, "Where is she?" He made finger signs of her walking away and said, "She not come back." He looked up into my face, and I said, "I am sorry," and opened my arms. He came right in and put his head on my chest for a minute, then went back to mashing.

At supper Bob read the very touching story of the woman in the Bible, who had been "forgiven much" loving much. Tehn, after supper, when the kitchen mess was all cleaned up, we stood around the big chopping block and drank Sleepytime tea and laughed, while Peter cracked jokes and James dramatized Romeo and Juliet.

Last evening he had stood before the family with a piece of folded paper, had unfolded and folded it again different ways to tell a story and illustrate it with little paper people, animals, a fish that swallowed a man, a ship and finally at the end, a box to pass around to collect money for the storyteller. "It's beesness, Mom, no money, no story." I think he is half serious.

Earlier today he had wanted to negotiate with the English teacher about how many questions he should answer in his workbook, which ones he should answer, when he should work, and even if he should work. It helps him if, at the first sign of wanting to have his way, I rein him right in quickly.

I am noticing just how self centered and wanting our own way we humans are. It is such a big issue for us. When we don't always get what we want, we and James are happier boys and girls.

Sisters

Bob took the three boys with him to pick up a few groceries for the girls' visit from New York, and while they were gone, the girls arrived. It was their first visit down here and so exciting to see them and to show off the house and backyard with its pond.

God's timing was perfect, getting this place just right for the boys' arrival. We knocked out three walls, and transformed a rather closed, very traditional home of an older couple into an open, bright and welcoming place where, from the kitchen you can see what's going on in the family room.

Back from the store, the guys all walked into the kitchen with hugs "all 'round bartender" for the big sisters. At first hesitant, the two small Ukrainians, who stuck out their hands for a polite handshake, were within seconds, laughing and talking and giving hugs like they'd always been here. In the midst of the jumble of happy bodies wriggled Skipper the dog, whining, licking, and jumping his greetings too.

Little Faces

Bedtime tonight should have been more subdued because Rob was sleeping over at a friend's, and that leaves only two boys in one bedroom. However, that's not taking into consideration that one of them is Peter.

Peter is a party waiting to happen, but I had to put him on hold while I finished my story with James. James was feeling cozy tonight and wanted to talk, so I told him about the day God pointed at him and said, "That's going to be your son."

He lay there, his head on his pillow, covers up to his chin. "Tell, Mom," he said , staring straight at me, holding every word. "Well, we were on our way to a Christmas party at that church, remember? At Ukrainian Christmas? We were all in our winter coats, snuggled into that van full of kids.

"I looked across the van, and all of a sudden I noticed you, wearing your blue scarf. Did you knit that yourself? You were very quiet and you looked so peaceful. I looked at you and you looked at me. That is when I knew it. My heart went bumpity bump, and I felt so happy inside, I couldn't wait to ask Babushka who you were.

"When I described the little blond boy with glasses, she told me about you. You had come to her house with some other kids for a sleepover and at supper she had asked if anyone wanted to tell a story. You said you did, and you told the story of..."

James eyes lit up as only James eyes can light up and he said, "I know, Mom. It was Jonah."
The missionary had told me he'd finished the story with, "So if you don't do what God tells you, you could get swallowed by a big fish. The end."

James sat up in bed and reached his arms up towards me for a tight squeeze, a very big smile of contentment spreading across his face.

I didn't tell him tonight, but for a few days after that day almost a year ago, there were times when I could hardly breathe, as I realized something really wonderful was happening in my heart. And the whole thing was compounded the very next day, when we took the kids to a restaurant for another Christmas outing, and God pointed out boy number two!

Meanwhile, behind me Peter was doing his bedtime ritual. He pulled the covers back and just when I thought he was ready to settle in, he threw them off and said in an urgent voice, "Mama, my sisters coming tomorrow, yes? I wear a tie." He had been waiting for an opportunity to wear a tie for a month, and now he deemed a visit from his big sisters from New York the perfect opportunity to Really Dress Up.

He bounced out of bed and ran for the closet. Over in his bed, James groaned and rolled over, while I followed his brother, knowing we had to take this to its conclusion or there'd be no peace.

Reaching for Rob's tie collection, he chose a dark gray, silky, formal one left over from a sister's wedding. Slipping it over his head, he snuggled it up to his chin, and deliberately smoothed it down over his little chest. Straightening his shoulders, he stood tall, a serious expression on his face.

The perfect touch to his grey, longjohn PJs.

Company

After the basketball tournament at school today, friends with two sons came by to watch football and have chili for supper. All five boys played more basketball. How is it that boys can do that? Shoot endless hours of baskets?

One is hoping ours will be in his grade 6 class next year. We are now thinking that they could audit some 5th grade classes for a month at the end of this year, to become accustomed to the school routines. They need to learn more English to be tested accurately for placement.

"Come on, Ded!

It's always nice to have something special to look forward to after a day of conjugating verbs. So, after throwing together spaghetti and a salad with tonight's "Set and Serve" crew, James, I decided we'd take in the basketball game at 5:00. Dad would join us straight from work.

On the way in, the boys said hello to new friends, Kevin and Seth, and a couple adults who wanted to welcome the new boys. On the way up the bleachers, we stopped and greeted the headmistress, whom the boys call the Dee-rec-tor of the school. We found our seats and settled in to watch the game.

It is something of a culture shock attending a highschool game, when you look at it through their eyes. What with fans cheering, two sets of bouncy cheerleaders doing cartwheels, music blaring, buzzers buzzing, and whistles blowing, it is good that the boys have each other. A friend commented that tonight they looked a little less like deer in headlights, but, still, both sat a little close to me at first, and Peter even took my hand for a minute.

James is 12 and slightly more cool that his younger brother of 11, so he is the one who explains the ins and outs of life in America. If they are with me, I remind them that they are talking in front of someone else, and would they please speak in English. Lately they are doing increasingly well at that.

While James and I cheered for Rob and the home team, "Go Flames!" Peter soulfully gazed at the door and said, "Come on, Ded!" It turned out that 'Ded' was later than he expected at work and went straight home, but he made up for it by reading Calvin and Hobb's, squashed into the fat chair with one son, and another hanging over each shoulder.

Tonight at supper Bob read the story of the blind man whose sight Jesus restored and Rob looked it up in the Russian Bible for James to read, while Peter searched for it in the Children's Picture Bible.

At bedtime all three boys teased me because this morning, forgetting that they had rotated beds last evening, I came in early and kissed James awake, thinking it was Rob. So as soon as the light was out, they switched on me again. Then on top of that, when I went to kiss them, I got the feet of one and the back end of the other.

Finally when we all simmered down, Peter listed all the people to be prayed for. I suggested some things we could be thankful for. James added Dad and Mom and relatives and Peter added socks and shoes and washrooms.

It's not really hard to please them. They just are really happy with socks and shoes and a washroom in a house with a mom, and a dad who reads Calvin and Hobbs, and a big brother who shows them how to play Chinese Checkers and load the dishwasher right. They just want to be tickled and teased, to be understood even if they speak half in Russian, and to kiss their dog goodnight several times, and get tucked in.

Musika

First off, the group we went to Ukraine with is simply called Oleg's Team by everyone who uses him as facilitator. He and his translators are professional, fast, efficient and fun to be with. If you are interested in doing an Independent Adoption, you can get a social agency like Catholic Charities to do a Home Study for your family, and then sign up as one of Oleg's families. His people will guide you through the process at significantly less cost than going with an agency or another group and much faster too, from everything I have heard.

We believe God heard the many prayers offered up on our behalf, because the US Embassy told us we were done in record time. Oleg is the one who can help you, especially if you have a specific child in mind. E-mail him at ukradopt@yahoo.com.

Today we needed to shop for some clothes for the boys and to make the few items they'd brought from the orphanage disappear because they, well, just looked 'early orphanage'. Besides, the kids have grown! James says, "I, at internot leetle boy. Now in America I am beeg." He put on a 12-14 shirt today and looks great.

So, giving the boys the usual instructions about not touching things and staying close to mom in stores, we drove off to McRae's to look for jeans for him and a Sunday shirt for Peter. I do not want to overwhelm them with too much stuff, so I wash a load almost every day and try to keep things well organized.

We had fun, but I had to hide my smile and hustle them back into the fitting room, when they came out in their undies to look at their muscles in the big mirror. And I needed to tell Peter that we also do not sing opera lustily in the fitting room. " I loove opera," he said, and between lines of a more subdued "Figaro, Figaro Figaro!" he helpfully tossed the socks he had tried on over the door top to me. Unfortunately his basketball arm is pretty good, and the rolled up socks landed back in the boys' department. "Oh, I'm solly, Mom." He was only trying to be his usual tidy self.

On the way home they got singing the first verse of "States Song" about the southern border of the United States, over and over. Once they tired of that one, James asked, "Please sing, 'He is Alive'?" their other favorite. So we put on the cassette tape and listened all through the peppy Christian songs to 'Beloved, let us love one another,' which they have memorized. That was followed by the one that chokes me up, 'I am His child and he's my Fadder, and His banner over me is love.' They have the words to that one down perfectly.

The other day I heard Maggie say, "No, James, no Britanny Spears in our house." They know it's different here with no MTV television, and he simply responded, "OK"' and stopped. Since then I have been surprised and touched to hear him and Peter join Keith Green singing about how God woke him up from the longest dream, changed him, and...

"You Put This Love in My Heart...
When I think of all you've done for me,
I just have to believe...
And when I get depressed and get down so low,
Then I see you comin' to me, and it's all right."

During kitchen clean-up tonight they turned it up loud and dried pots and bounced, singing along with their Russian accents. "You put this love in my heart, woo woo woo, You put this love in my heart."

I think He has put His love in their heart. There's less and less of the old stuff in there every day, Praise God.

Food Glorious Food

Today at lunch after 3 weeks home, I suddenly realized I was chatting with my new sons in English. We were discussing the fresh bread James had made in the breadmaker, and I was saying to go a little easier on the peanut butter.

They were actually understanding everything I was saying to them. In return I asked them how to say some words in Russian. Peter would stop eating and look straight into my face and clearly sound out the Russian word syllable by syllable. He then would repeat any I had difficulty with until I'd get it... I had no choice but to get it! And since I can read the Russian letters, he'd help me write it too (interesting that his birth mom was also a teacher)

We got talking about the word 'sometimes', and for whatever reason I threw out the question, "Did you 'sometimes' feel hungry at the orphanage? 'Sometimes' go to bed wishing you could have more to eat?" The way they consume food at our house I felt I could use a little insight into why there is such enthusiasm at mealtime. They became really serious and began talking to each other in Russian, until I said, "Speak in English, boys."

James began. "Yes, go to bed hungry, and in grade 3 we have no food for two days. We are all very hungry, and Peter is like this," and he drooped his head on his chest. Peter, looking very sad at the memory, joined him in demonstrating and laid his head wearily on the table.

I asked, "Then what happened?" and he said, "Babushka come with food," meaning our missionary friend. "She give us apples, "and he dramatized her passing them out one by one to the children. "And we eat them."

That might explain why they love apples so much.

Psalm 46

Psalm 46

¹God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. ²Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea; ³Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof. Selah. ⁴There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High. <> ⁵God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved: God shall help her, and that right early.¹⁰Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth. ¹¹The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah.

For those of you who may be reading this and wondering if we have trouble with adjustments... just to let you know, yes. Last evening we had some difficulty communicating among all six of us.

But when James kneeling next to me at bedtime asked, "Are you ok, Mama?" I could honestly smile and say, "Yes, I am fine, because I know my Jesus. " I hope in the storms of life you are fine, because you know your Jesus. You, too, have seen what He can do.

Now this morning, as with every morning God's mercy is new, and we are all smiling. Praise the Lord for He is good.

Thank yous

Dear Family and Friends,

I want to thank each of you so very much for your friendship and support during this special time of our lives. To those of you who have written comments, I know it takes a little effort, but it is very sweet hearing from you. I appreciate so much just knowing that you are somehow being blessed. Thank you. I didn't even know some of you knew I had a blog!

God has been so good to us, I just cry and pinch myself when I think about how much he has done for our family. Our year waiting for the boys was all worth it, the way God graciously walked us through many dangers, toils and snares that only a few of you know about. I think I can speak for others who have adopted when I say that it is far harder than having a baby by natural means, and I have given birth to seven and lost one at 2 months gestation. But the preparation for this time was very intense and stripped away from us many things that were a waste of time in God's plan anyway. I have come to see how God has a plan for each life, and that if we are diligent and cling to Him even when everything in our life is shouting, "This is NOT going to work!" He will make everything beautiful in His time.

If I start naming you dear ones, I may miss one, so I won't. I love you all, friends and relatives. I have a very special spot in my heart for those in our Adoption Forum. Thank you for sharing and praying. I know your words come out a deep place in your hearts as you, too, wait for your children or are facing the daily challenges once you get them home. Some of you don't even know who your child is yet, and two of you are heading over to Ukraine in three days to get four precious children! Star, I am so glad our paths crossed. I will never forget the day I met your oldest son-to-be in that 7th grade classroom. The teacher had heard my offer to help a couple kids with drawing, and had vanished for an hour and left me to babysit a roomful of Russian speaking kids watching that terrible horror movie.

After I figured out that she wasn't coming back I got up the nerve to turn it off and do a craft with them. Your Dima walked over to me and said, "I have penpal in America," and it turned out to be our daughter Stephenie! When you mentioned on the forum you were adopting a Dima in Odessa, we connected. He and his sister and two little brothers are going to be so surprised and excited when Mom amd Dad arrive next week to take them home!! I can hardly wait to read your blog!!

I told our Peter today that you were going over to get them, and he got very serious and said, "Ohhhh." I think he wants us to go back and get his little buddy who limps. This morning when he woke early, (he and I are always up before anyone else) he came and sat on my lap at the computer and typed a letter to a missionary there who had arranged for him to get surgery for crossed eyes (his and James are still quite bad I noticed today, when they stared cross-eyed into the camera to have U.S. citizenship photos taken. I had to tell them to relax.)

The first thing he's ever composed in English read, "This is Sasha. My new name is Peter. Thank you for the glasses and surgery on my ear. I love you." Both will need another surgery for their eyes and Peter will need more work on his ear. We and he are glad for what he has, because it holds his glasses up! Unless we find he has hearing in there, we'll just speak to the side that hears. He is so precious. I cannot tell you how much he honors me and loves me. I am his first mama in all his eleven years. But God has been so gracious to him throughout those years, giving him dear people whom he still prays for every night in Ukrainian.

Peter makes it clear that he is Ukrainian and speaks Ukrainian, while his brother James speaks Russian. Ukrainian, to a Russian, it seems, is like a American Southern accent is to a Northerner.

James had a mama, but he was forced to leave home at age 8 years and find work on the street. He sold papers for a man and ate yogurt and sausage, until he was picked up and sent to the orphanage four years ago. It was hard on the street, because sometimes people in the cafe where he slept in a corner would make him dance. He was embarrased to dance, but when they forced him to drink vodka, it was easier to dance. He was sorry and humiliated that he was drunk. Today he is disgusted by vodka.

Later I will delete these facts, but I do want you to know there are many (24,000 in Ukraine) darling children with hearts of gold waiting for someone to tuck them in at night. An orpanhange supervisor is not the same as a mom or dad, even if she happens to be nice and not one of those who calls you an idiot or holds your fingers in the back of a door to punish you for lying.

This afternoon we had a treat, going to the basketball games at school. The boys sat next to Dad and Maggie and cheered as their big brother, Rob, scored and made some great passes. And we spoke with many wonderful friends who were excited to finally meet our new boys. Thank you everyone for the chance for the guys to practice their English on you. God's blessing on each of you for your smiles and encouragement and love and prayers. We are all in this together and you do your part so beautifully.

Jesus Stills the Storm

Victoria was supposed to keep it a secret, but Peter confided in her that he and James just loved Friday Night pizza and movie. That after their first experience of the family tradition, they had lain in bed stuffed. "James could not move, and I even had to burp. Don't tell Mama and Papa, ok?"

Last evening Bob's Friday night movie selection was The Black Stallion, a movie with limited dialogue and an exciting story about a shipwreck in which a young boy and a wild black stallion are washed ashore on a desert island. It was long and we didn't finish it, but it did make a good jumping off point for their bedtime story. Jesus was asleep in the boat with His disciples, and a great storm arose.

What began as me trying to figure out how to explain it in very basic English, turned into a very interactive experience for us all! (though not as violent as the story of how God delivered the Midianites into the hand of Gideon!) James leapt up onto the top bunk and demonstrated how the ship rocked in the huge waves, and Peter clung to my ankle in fear.

The Bible lesson ended with us practicing the words of Jesus as He arose to command the storm, "Peace! Be still!" Grabbing them by the pajama seats, I hoisted them into their beds, and, covers up, laid a hand on each head and said, "Peace, be still. Jesus loves you so much."

Later, before Maggie and Rob went off to bed, we four gathered on our queen-size bed and talked about the day. (So far the younger boys have not been allowed into our bedroom area, but that is ok because their schedule calls for an earlier bedtime.)

Then it was "Good-night, John-Boy, Good-night Rob and Mimi. Peace, be still to you, too."

Odds and Ends

I have just tucked the boys in, and as every mom knows, those sleeping kids sure are cute. Well, I can't help it if ours are cute when they are awake too. Even if they do grate the red wax covering along with the cheese, and want to crack their hard boiled eggs on their foreheads. Even though they like the car windows rolled down when it's frosty cold out, and put their faces to the wind like a couple of puppies, and embarass me by activating the car horn anti-theft device. And even if they race each other down the driveway when the postal truck comes and bring me the "ee- mail" and then show me every single page of every piece of junk mail and ask me what it is.

Of course every situation and every conversation helps with their English. At supper tonight Bob asked each of us to share about our day. Rob told about basketball practice, but what he really wanted to do was read some A.A. Milne poetry. His new brothers loved "Sneezles and Weezles," and we all laughed at the one where, "James was a very small snail." Maggie told how she'd waited at the police station while some guy took a breathalizer test, before she could get her fingerprints taken for her new daycare job. James had tons of fun making chocolate chip cookies with Mimi, and Peter had ridden one of the big bikes and put his feet up on the handlebars.

None of us shared how the day started with Peter needing his ribs tickled to dispell a pout that was about to happen, and how James had to sit on a stool near Mom for a while in the kitchen. Recalling my Grandmother's technique with her six sons, I had brought him near me and continued with my work.

He too had demonstrated the art of flipping slippers into the air, when he didn't want to be told what to do. And he too had learned once again that Mom means it when she tells him, "God says you must obey me today."

While he sat there, Bob called from work. He reminded me that I must win this one. I know he prayed for me because shortly I had an idea. I folded a paper in four and wrote on the outside "A Family" inside a heart. Then I opened it, and spreading the paper before James on the table. I drew a line down the middle with the title on one side, "Dad and Mom" and on the other half, "James".

Under "Dad and Mom," I wrote the things that his parents do for him. They love him; they give him a family, nice clothes, good food, a bed, a house, a school, sports, teach him about God and Jesus Christ, give him toys, a bicycle to ride and books. What a long list of things we must do!

Now look on James' side of the page. There is only one thing there for James to do. That is, to say,"Yes, Mom, I will" with a smile. If, instead he says, "No!" then Mom will scratch out bicycle, and then scratch out sports, then toys. When I got down the list to cookies, I went over to the plate Maggie had stacked high with hot, freshly baked, chocolate chip cookies and slowly began placing them one by one inside plastic containers and putting them into the freezer.

He watched me solemnly and saw me stop and close my eyes and pray. In a moment he left his stool and came and looked up at me with big eyes. "Mom, I am sorry." I told him that I was so glad, and that it made me happy to hear him say that. He said, "No, Mama, I am sorry." It wasn't until I said, "I forgive you," that he put his arms around me and we hugged and laughed. He still was not allowed to ride the bike for the rest of today, but we also went over the list again to explain that, no matter what he said or did, bad or good, we would never stop loving him, giving him food, clothes, and a home.

This afternoon he and Peter had a wonderful time at the supermarket shopping for their favorite thing of all, food! They jumped and ran to open car doors and store doors for me, loaded and unloaded the grocery cart and were so helpful at the check-out that the sweet girl there just had to ask them their names and, "How do y'all lahk America?"

This evening the three boys hung over Maggie's shoulders at the computer giggling over messages they translated back and forth to each other using translation2.paralink.com. Maggie had introduced the concept at lunch when Peter had said he didn't like the potato soup. She had dashed to the computer, and in a instant returned with the Russian translation of, "If you don't like it, suffer in silence."

Tomorrow we shall expand on the word silence and discuss how when one adds a silent e at the end of a short vowel word, it makes it long, like when cap becomes cape and Tim becomes time. Come to think of it, the whole concept of silence is a good one to review generally... especially at bedtime.

Thursday

So much happens so fast around here that I never finished my story. It seems I can spend only 30 seconds on this computer without getting interrupted. It has been a few years since that was an ordinary part of life, so it is taking some adjustment. I love it though.

Anyway, Victoria came home after church and we sat down with the boys for the Big Discussion. Bob put it to them that fistfights were not allowed in our house and that making fun or bad mouthing was not either. He asked them whether or not they liked being here or if the internot was better. They were certain they liked this better.

During the afternoon, Bob went out and stood near James fishing. In minutes James was his old, sweet self. Next morning when we went over our verse "Be kind to one another, tender- hearted, forgiving one another," it was he who explained the word forgive. "If somebody pow-pow you. They say, "I'm sorry." You say, "Eet's ok."

Since then we have had only one little snit per day, where one decided not to greet his big sister pleasantly in the morning. When asked to, he turned and marched away flinging his slippers across the room, and as he did so, treated us to a Russian phrase we are glad was in Russian. Thankfully, I am quick on my feet, and within seconds he received his swift, due reward.

That quickly cleared the air, and soon things were humming along splendidly. That is until the other brother decided he wanted to do his schoolwork on his own, and not come to the kitchen, where Mom could watch him. This time it was my turn to have a discussion about pouting. I explained that that was for babies, and that they were 11 and 12. When I told Dad's story about the boy who pouted and a bird came and sat on his lower lip, they laughed.

Occasionally now, when the opportunity arises to use that old attention-seeking devise, they stop, and one or the other will say with a big grin and in a super sweet voice, "Yes, Mom, I weel." They even explained to Victoria how they are to answer Mom, and she reinforced it. It is amazing what a happy difference this is making. I think it is a new concept to them, and it will likely take a number of morning encounters before they get it completely. But that's ok. With bulldog perseverance and the Presence of Jesus we can do "all things."

Prodigal Son-day

Once again, God showed up and fixed things for us this past Sunday.

Early in the morning Bob walked into the kitchen and commanded, "Call Victoria. We need her to come to church with us." After five daughters, it is time for me to trust my husband's judgment regarding sons. So as I was opening my mouth to question him about making a last minute phonecall, instead I called Victoria. Yes, she wanted very much to come and translate for the boys, and could she come a bit early? "Good," said Bob and went for his shower.

I carried on preparing breakfast, but within a few minutes, he returned to say that the boys were not coming to eat, that they had had a fight in the bedroom and were confined to their beds, until they made up. Calling upon his five-word Russian vocabulary, he had discerned from what they told him, that both - or neither - boy had started the fight, and that neither wanted to apologize.

I waited a while in the kitchen and then went in to their room, leaving Maggie and Rob and Bob to pray for the Holy Spirit to go with me. Sitting down opposite them on Rob's bed, I surprised myself by suddenly bursting into tears! Well, if I was low on affection, it wasn't for long, because two very sorrowful boys immediately descended upon me, crooning and comforting, "Ahhh, Mama!" and then bubbling on in affectionate Russian.

Peter was in tears himself and ready to say, "I am sorry," but it was apparent that James was only sorry he had upset me. While Peter the Naughty seemed repentent, James the Good was indignant. After all, it was he who had been pummelled by small Ukrainian fists, never mind that he may have provoked it. Whatever the case, more than mere repentence was necessary in his mind, before the prodigal son should return to the family breakfast circle.

Just when we were becoming concerned that a wonderful Sunday morning was being stolen from us, blessed Victoria walked in the kitchen door! So this is why Bob had asked me to call her, and why she "needed" to come over early.

She and I found James on a front porch rocker and went and sat with him. He explained to her, and to me by translation, that it was always this way. That Peter insults him and Peter whacks him. This particular altercation had been over a bet whether or not the ceiling light fixture was a tri-light, but Peter got physical, while James controlled his temper. Now he was having a hard time forgiving his brother.

Interesting that the message at church that morning was about pride that keeps us from saying we are sorry and from forgiving those who hurt us. As smart as they are, my guess is that both Peter and James got their little Word from the Lord... even though part of the time James had his fingers in his ears.

School Begins

This week we had our first three days of school. Victoria, having been schooled in Estonia, uses the European aopproach and has high expectations of her young students. At first she will teach intensive English only. Then after about 10 lessons, she'll begin on other subjects. I am so grateful and really am in awe of how God set this up for us.

Using the Fire, Aim, Ready approach with regard to what we were going to do with these boys once we got home, I did recall one thing. That was what Mr. Dick suggested in Charles Dicken's classic, David Copperfield. When Aunt Betsy asked for his advice as to what at she should do with the orphan boy, Mr Dick said, "Why, bathe him!"

I knew that far at least. After all God had done for us before and during our trip, I was totally confident He would show us beyond that. And now here was a young woman, as fun outside of school, as she is strict during school, teaching our boys at my kitchen table. Why do I ever, ever doubt God's goodness and provision?

After one day into it, it became apparent that they needed to be separated because, well, one of them needs rebuking too frequently. He requires a more active and shortened version of school, while the other child is a more left brain learner and eagerly sits waiting to be taught, asking if it can go on another hour.

Victoria began with the "to be" and "to have" verbs, and quickly advanced to the negation of these verbs and a bunch more. No more, "I am is ride bike." We are learning Simple Present. And, with our help, the boys are using it, and its negative and question forms. Is Rob a dog?" "No! Rob is NOT a dog. Rob is a boy." We get along fine until we get to, "Is Skipper your brother?" and Peter answers, "Yes, Skipper is my brother!" and he means it. He is devoted to that dog.

So we concentrate on the "th" sound instead. We stand in front of the bathroom mirror with our tongues out, but not way out; just the tips, and sound "th, th, th". With Peter we are working on not spraying the family with a loud (probably because he hears with only one ear) gutteral 'H' when he says, "Hhhi" or "Hhhello"! In a way I will be sad when Miss Victoria gets her way and he loses his Ukrainan accent. He is too adorable.