Wednesday, June 5, 2013: Day 10

Today was such an incredible, overwhelming mix of emotions - but ended up being a great day. We went to the Priozorsk orphanages, 1 and 2. The first one we went to has three buildings, and is home to numerous children who have any kind of disabilities - mental, physical, anything at all. We visited several rooms and made many, many new friends! I have my two crosses away to young girls, who were between 10 and 14 years old and were in wheelchairs. One was named Sasha:

Sasha and I at Priozorsk 1

I couldn't quite get the other girl's name, even with our translator's help! Those first couple of rooms were a lot of fun to visit, lots of smiles and interaction!

One room we went into was occupied by five boys who were waking up from a nap. One of them, again with a name I couldn't grasp, is 8 years old, very sweet, and very bright. He was born with spinabifida and is paralyzed because of it. His paralyzation is the sole thing that keeps him in his wheelchair, and in the orphanages. Here's a picture of me with him:

Karen says that she's seen him grow up, and has seen him in four different orphanages, all for handicapped children, in the past eight years. At one point, money was raised to get him a nice wheelchair, but the director at one of the previous orphanages kept it, claiming it was his. Now the boy is confined to a generalized wheelchair again.

The further we went in the tour, the more we saw kids who were severely disabled. One room we went into was specifically for children who were bedridden, most of who are undersized for the worst part was when we left that room: I had been rubbing someone's back and they started screaming when I left - they hadn't finished when we passed that room on the way out of the building. Here's a picture of two friends that I made in one of those rooms:

A 15-year-old confined to a bed.

A 6-year-old child in a crib - he's wrapped himself around my arm in this picture, his immediate reaction when I put my hand in the crib to rub his back. 

On a much happier note, though, we were also able to revisit the orphanage that Michael's church supports, the one where I met Anya last year. I was so nervous pulling up in front of the orphanage. I saw Anya's friend from last year, Luva, run up to the van, and my heart jumped; Anya wasn't in the small welcoming committee, and I was worried she wasn't going to be there. It didn't help my worries when she didn't come rushing out of the orphanage to greet us.

Side note: Sorry if this comes across as semi mello-dramatic, but I try to paint as vivid a story as possible, and I feel like it may come across to the audience as somewhat of an overkill, but this was a pretty momentous moment in my trip.

As we got out of the an and were greeted by kids, I started to prepare myself to not see her. After all, kids are moved all over the place, as though they were chess pieces and the orphanages were the squares on a chess board. My chances of seeing her again were all over the place, especially since school is out, so kids are off at camp or visiting family.

As I started to interact with the other kids, the front door opened, and I saw Anya's face peek out. If you've ever had those moments when everything around you freezes and it's just you and the focus of excitement - that's exactly what happened when I realized I was looking at Anya.

I don't believe I'll ever forget the look on her face when I called out her name and she recognized me and ran into my arms. We were both laughing, I was crying, and she clung to me, exactly like she did when she first met me.

Moments like that are exactly why I wanted to come back on the trip. I want to reunite with as many people as possible, just to have another opportunity to share the love of Christ, to hand out a cross or a Bible, to smile at someone, hold someone's hand, anything. And Anya's smile upon recognizing my face convinces me that this is completely and 100% totally worth it, especially when she asks me questions such as "When are you coming back?" Soon, sweet angel. I pray very soon.

Anya and me, moments after being reunited. 

Side note: So, Anya's orphanage director, to be pictured after this note, was chatting with me and a few of the other members of my group, and she asked us what we were going to school for. When I said that I was going into education, she told me that I have a job at her orphanage whenever I want it. I'm posting about this almost a month later, and not a day has gone by that I haven't thought about it. Your prayers for the matter are very much appreciated. My first instinct is to say "Yes, sign me up, I'll graduate with my teaching degree and move here!" But I know that there are so many more factors to consider: if I want to move to Russia by myself, if I want to go there as a young first-year teacher, if I'll have time to learn the language, if I'll have anywhere to live, who I'll be leaving behind in the United States, how long I'll want to stay in Russia... I told one of my friends recently that, no matter how badly I think I want this opportunity - and have wanted it for the past year or so - fear keeps taking over. I'm terrified to go alone (though we are never alone, with Christ!) I'm scared to leave the life I've lived for the past twenty years, I'm scared about too many things. Please keep this in your prayers. I could potentially be Anya's teacher in a year and a half, if this is what I'm supposed to do, but I just haven't the foggiest about where I'll be needed most at the point in my life. 

The orphanage director who offered me the job and Michael, whose church sponsors the orphanage where I'd be working.