I now faced the upcoming holidays with joy and gratitude in my heart
rather than the despair I faced a year ago. I cherished the time with my
parents when they came to visit us again for Thanksgiving. My mom, David, and I
hit the stores on Black Friday like we always do, but I didn’t wince in pain as
we walked through the toy aisles this year. The princess outfits didn’t torment
me as I walked by them either.
The orphanage
recently gave me permission to send Julian a Christmas gift, so I thought of
him this year as I shopped. He told me once that he didn’t own a Bible, and I
remembered saying maybe I’d send him one for Christmas. I searched through the
Spanish Bibles at a local Christian bookstore to find him the perfect one.
David and I worked together to find the right translation for him. We wanted a
Bible with both the Old and New Testaments, but still little enough to fit
inside a small box. My heart filled with joy when we made our purchase that
day.
It’s amazing what latching on to hope can do for you. We didn’t feel
like we’d reached the mountaintop yet, but we anxiously and eagerly climbed our
way up. It felt good to love and be loved again.
Julian’s high
school graduation approached quickly, but he ran into an unexpected problem.
Since he attended a year-long course at a technical school at the same time, he
did not attend his high school classes as consistently as he should have. Now
with graduation right around the corner, he found out he might not graduate
because he missed too many classes. The news devastated him!
It concerned us, too. Without a diploma, he couldn’t take the courses
we hoped for him to take here. We prayed for God to make a way for him to
graduate.
Julian said
he had to take a test to show how much he learned throughout high school, and,
luckily, he only fell short in one area--Calculus. The school gave him remedial
help and allowed him to take the test again. We prayed him through it, along
with all of his prayer warriors at our church, but when he took the test the
second time, he still didn’t pass. So discouraged and scared, he gave it one
more shot by hiring a tutor before meeting with his teacher to demonstrate what
he learned. That boy had more prayers going out for him than he even knew. He
finally passed, graduating a week later.
He made it, so he totally surprised me when he said he didn’t even want
to attend his graduation.
“Why don’t you want to go? You worked so hard!” I asked.
“I don’t have
anyone to go with me.” He invited one person from the orphanage, but she
couldn’t go. He didn’t feel like going to his own graduation all alone.
Thankfully, when he realized the orphanage already paid for his attire, he
changed his mind at the last minute.
I chatted online with him that morning while he got ready. “I would
have loved to go with you if I were there.”
“I know. Thank you.” He nervously put on his cap and gown, saying he
looked like a penguin. I loved being able to “spend” the morning with him.
He did meet up with a female friend at his graduation, one who also grew
up in the orphanage with him but no longer lived there. He didn’t take any
pictures, but she did, and he sent those to me. I immediately printed them out
to hang on the wall in the spare bedroom. He sure made a handsome graduate,
making me one proud “Mom”.
Months earlier I made a small photo book with pictures of Julian and
his siblings. He never found an opportunity to get a picture of the three of
them together, despite my begging, so the book only contained pictures of him
and Juan David together or him and Viviana together. Now that I had graduation
pictures, I taped them onto the inside and outside back cover of the little
book. I bought a CD of one of his favorite songs, and I carefully packed it all
together in the little box with his new Bible.
His Christmas
package still felt incomplete, but an idea came to my mind about what it
lacked. When I sent Juan David that little Texas keychain over a year ago, I
bought myself a matching one as a keepsake. Juan David now had a new family to
love him, although they still hadn’t adopted him, and my heart let him go. I
wanted to give Julian the matching one rather than keep it for myself. He and
Juan David could share a common possession, plus now it could remind Julian of
a family in Texas that loved him as their son, now his family forever. We
didn’t need adoption papers to declare it true this time around.
We just turned the calendar to December, but I couldn’t wait to send Julian’s
gift. That little box seemed ready to “bust at the seams” because it held so
much love within it. I couldn’t bear for it to sit on my counter when it could
be in his hands. I carefully wrapped it all up tight, drove to the Mail Mart
and sent it off.
What an odd feeling, walking into that Mail Mart again with yet another
package to send to that same orphanage in Colombia, another one of those
moments I never could have imagined taking place. Our story touched the owner
of the Mail Mart so much that she gave us a discount for every package we
mailed those kids. Now, a year later, she recognized me as soon as I walked in
the door and gave me the discount again.
I secured the tracking numbers for my package and watched online almost
every hour until that little box reached its destination.
“Milllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
gracias. (Thanks a million!) The gift is beautiful. I love you guys so much. I
don’t need to receive another gift at all for Christmas. This is more than enough.” Julian thanked me
immediately for the gift.
To add to the excitement, the same day I put the package in the mail,
the director of the orphanage also gave me permission to start making phone
calls to Julian. I only ever heard his voice once, and I didn’t even remember
what it sounded like during those brief moments of a conversation Juan David
arranged over a year ago.
