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Tuesday

My Sister's Face

I thought this a wonderful piece, so I had to publish it. Please comment and tell the author how wonderful it is! (Hint: I didn't write it.)




Have you ever wondered what it would be like if you met one of your family members instead of growing up with them? When I was nine years old my parents decided to adopt. I was thrilled. I had two younger brothers and I was ready to have a sister. At least I thought I was. My brothers and I were all excited but none of us fully understood what we were about to go through. After a year of endless paperwork and waiting, we got a phone call. The voice on the other line told my mom that an orphanage in Ukraine would allow us to adopt. This made the situation seem more hopeful but my parents would leave in less than a week. At the time we had no idea how long my parents would need to be in the other country; not knowing terrified me. While there, they would be picking out a girl to bring home and doing more paperwork. The next few days were busy as my parents scrambled to get ready to leave the country.

My parents ended up being in Ukraine for a month. During that time, my brothers an I stayed at a family friend's home; they lived three and a half hours away from Alexandria. Our parents were only able to talk to us through phone calls that came once a week. Every time I was able to talk to my parents I got excited and had lots to tell them. But when it came time to say good-bye I had to hold back tears. Being separated from my parents was hard. My parents were also able to send us a few emails. In one email we saw a picture of the girl my parents had picked. She was a healthy two year-old. The tiny girl had curly hair and clung to a doll: her face was wet from tears and her nose was runny from crying. The loneliness she had in her eyes was more than I can explain. I was suddenly hesitant. Would getting a little sister really be all that I had wanted it to be? For the first time I realized this was going to be harder than I thought.

When the end of the month finally came, my brothers and I came back home where my grandma was waiting for us. My parents would not be home until late that night.

Though I was filled with excitement and anticipation, I fell asleep while I was waiting. At 11:30 p.m. my parents arrived and my mom woke me up. I anxiously hugged both my parents. The whole month they had been away was now gone and we were together again.

"Can I see her?" I asked though I was nervous. I had to see the face from the e-mail.
"Yeah." My mom's face glowed with pride.
"Wait. Have Isaac and Zach seen her?" I felt scared, my nervousness was taking over.
"No. They will see her in the morning, but I want you to see her now," my mom replied calmly. "She is sleeping now." My mom gave me a comforting smile as she slowly pushed open the bedroom door. I hesitated before entering the dark room. The light from the hallway streamed in and I saw a port-a-crib on the floor next to my parents' bed. I peered over the edge of the crib. My body slowly relaxed. The face in the crib was tiny and cute just like it had been in the e-mail. But this face was not streaked with tears, and the sadness was replaced with a peaceful sleep. This face said it was going to be OK: it wouldn't be perfect but it was going to work out. That face was my sisters face.



This wonderful story is 100% true. It was written by Larissa. I was privileged enough to be the friend three and a half hours from Alexandria.

In Flander's Fields

This struck me as remarkable, and sad. Read it seriously. Check out this link for more information.

In Flander's Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amist the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flander's fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch, be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flander's fields.