Every Adoption Is a Miracle
Good News meditation.
by Joseph Cunningham, LC | Source:
I first met my brother and sister when they were eight and ten years old. They’re family just like the rest of my seven siblings, even though they’re adopted.
It all began eight years ago.
My mother rarely watches movies. As a romantic evening activity, for his birthday, my father got her to see “Schindler’s List.” Toward the end of the film, Oscar Schindler weeps, realizing he could have saved many more people, and didn’t. My mom, mother of six, cried as well.
Our friends had begun the process of adopting and both of my parents - unannounced to the other – were praying about the same thing.
One afternoon they gathered us into the diningroom with big smiles on their faces. “Is Mom having another baby?” we asked.
“Kids, how would you like to have a brother or sister from Mexico?” they said. We were so excited, we took both.
Thus began two years of bottle drives and candy sales, paper work, eating “Frosted Mini-Wheats”® (Mom found a deal on frequent flier miles), and even later nights trying to make ends meet. One of those nights my parents prayed to St. Jerome Emiliani, the patron saint of orphans. Then the phone rang. Friends of ours said they had two plane tickets for us. I will never eat “Mini-Wheats” again!
Our story ran in the Thanksgiving newspaper that year. Letters, checks, and anonymous cash began arriving in the mail. “I thought it would all-of-a-sudden cover everything,” Mom remembers, “but we received only what we needed exactly when we needed it.”
Plane day: July 11, 2001. It was already dark when we arrived in Philadelphia, tired yet excited beyond words. We watched small dark skinned children in blue uniforms file out into the terminal and a kind-looking lady in brown took two of them by the hands and walked them over. Mom was crying.
“Llazmin? Andrés?” she said, “I love you.”
I remember carrying Andrés back to the hotel room on my shoulders. Kevin gave him his laser pointer and Ben gave him a nuggie. The girls were all smiles.
By Christmas they had learned English. All we had learned of Spanish was “plato” and “baño” and “How do you say…?” Andrés washed dishes with Andrew and Llazmin got the girls’ week with Katie and Lucy; and after they got yelled at, they were family.
I can’t imagine life without them now. If one of them left, it would be the same as Andrew leaving. Life is full and warm together. I just thank God that from all eternity he gave me Andrés as a real brother and Llazmin as a real sister, and my parents and us kids were generous.
“And Mom’s gonna’ to write a book!” said Ben.
“Really Mom, whatcha’ gonna’ call it?”
“Every Adoption Is a Miracle,” she said. Every adoption is a miracle.
To write to Tom & Sue Cunningham: email@example.com
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