This Place

When I look at this photo, I feel a deep sense of comfort and security. Having spent a week in this very same apartment, I know that when the picture shows Ian glancing off to the left he is looking toward the kitchen where someone is surely working on his next meal or snack. When I focus on the upper right corner of the photograph and see a woman standing over the big blue basins, I know that she is probably doing dishes and making sure his bottles and eating utensils are clean.

When I see the white tile sparkling, I know someone has mopped it so that his environment is healthy. When I see the toy beside him and the television above him, I know that someone is making sure he has opportunities for entertainment and enjoyment. And when I see him standing alone, strong and tall, I know that someone has encouraged his growth and development.

When I look at this photo, I feel grateful. I know that not all of the babies experience these same blessings. Mine didn't initially, which is probably why I appreciate it all the more. I feel humbled. I know that neither I nor my children are more deserving than the next. I even feel a little guilty. I know that not every parent adopting from Haiti has the privilege of knowing where their child sleeps and who feeds him and cares for him. I know that many do not have the blessing of photos like these taken by other parents on their behalf.

It may not always stay this way. There are no guarantees in this roller coaster that is Haitian adoption. But while it is so, I will be thankful. And I am thankful ... for this place, at this time.