The boys

March 23, 2023

The letters.

When I left Haiti each of the boys gave me a letter.  I held them and didn’t try to read them as they felt like sacred writings in my hand, something to be saved for a time when they could be read with great care and given the attention they deserve.

When I read them, my heart was overwhelmed by the words of teenage boys - boys I know do not share their emotions freely.  I was most amazed to read what Stanley wrote:

“It is the grace of God with you who removed me from under the hand of Fedrick.”

The hand of Fedrick.  Sometimes I forget the hand of Fedrick.  Sometimes I forget the children’s stories as they have a new life.

But the children?  The children will never forget.  They lived that nightmare.  And it will, in some way, always be with them - that darkness - no matter how much light floods their lives these days.

When did these six go from being kids we were caring for to kids that I knew were my own? When did they become my sons? As I told them on Monday morning, “We do not have papers, but we all know the truth. You are adopted.” And they are.

And they are loved. So deeply. I do not want to be another loss in their lives.