Anna... This Week

Anna has had a great week. 

She came home with this after a special celebration/presentation at school (parents not allowed)



And then there was her viola solo concert posted back here.

And on Wednesday her art was exhibited in a town-wide art show.  Only a handful of students were selected from her school. 



She had to create a carousel horse with the theme of nationality. 



When she came down to go to the exhibit on opening night she choose to wear her Chinese silk dress to match her heritage and I was oh so proud of her just for that brilliant idea (why didn't I think of that?)



And then to see the Chinese character for the word adoption on the horse and what she wrote... it nearly took my breath away. 





I was so glad that she had a the kind of week where she feels extra special.  The kind where she applauded by her principal.  The kind that celebrates her gifts and talents.  I feel grateful that she was blessed by God this week and built up because it has been a really painful and difficult time for her recently. 

It all started when we went to ooh and ahh over her new cousin.  And she adores him.  We all do.  He is a gift to our family and he is cherished.  But when we got home that night I found her in her room just standing in the middle very stiff and silent tears streaming down her face.  I thought maybe she got hurt and immediately went over to hug her.  And then she told me, "it just hurts so much.  It's a pain in my heart that I can't make go away.  It aches and hurts so much."  And I knew.  So I rocked her and held her crying for an hour telling her over and over how much we loved her and that I AM her mommy.

Somehow I had forgotten that something so innocent as seeing a family rejoice and celebrate the birth of a baby could bring enormous pain to her 'not yet healed' heart.  Her pain was real, and there was nothing I could do or say to make it go away. 

She wanted to know more and needed to be reassured that she was rocked once we got her; that we fed her with a bottle once she came home; that her diapers were changed by us and that she was our baby.  But deep down I know she was thinking of the age that a tiny newborn baby is and how she knows that she wasn't with a family then.  She's old enough now to know that there was no rejoicing and celebration when she was born.  And just beginning to understand that story... well that's painful.  So I will rock her until she grows up.  I'll give bathe her until she begs me to take a shower.  I'll do anything and everything I can to give her back that first year. 

I wish, oh how I wish that she didn't have the story she has.  She has endured more in her little nine years than anyone I know.  But her story makes her who she is.  And she is a miracle.