I remember the moment I first saw her: she was in the immobile girls' room at Sarah's Covenent Home in India and was being hand-fed her breakfast by one of the ayahs. She caught my eye and the moment she did, her face burst into an uncontrollable smile as though she had been waiting for me all her life. The bleak conditions at the orphanage seemed to have no effect on her. She could not walk, which I later found out was due to Cerebral Palsy, but she moved about in a hip-hoppity motion like a little frog on her knees, the sparkle in her eye never faltering.
Her name was Lily. Her papers estimated her to be 7 years old, but it seemed impossible that she was older than 4. When I sat down on the edge of the bed, she moved toward me in her froggy jumps and instinctively placed her head to my chest. I peered down at her and my heart was squeezed. This little girl needs a mommy. And in that moment I decided to function as one for her. She might not have a real mom, not unless she is adopted, but she could at least have one for a month.
Each morning after that I made a beeline for her room. The second she saw me, she'd smile, knowingly; she knew I had come just for her. I made it a habit to greet all the other children in the room first, making my way over to her slowly. When I'd get to her she'd rest her head on my lap or crawl into my arms to be swung upside down. Her giggles filled the air, delighted by all the attention. Her ayah soon included me in her morning routine. At breakfast, they handed me her bowl so I could feed her; after she was bathed, I powdered her face, dressed her, and combed her hair. I noticed her right ear was badly infected so I began to take her to the nurse's station to get ear drops. When 9am rolled around, I would carry her to a car waiting out front to take her to school. A goodbye kiss on the cheek sent her on her way.
This was my daily routine.
For one month I played mom.
It wasn't until the last week of the month that I found out that Lily had HIV/AIDS.
Meeting Lily changed me. Before her, I had always considered adoption, but now that decision has been completely solidified for me. I may not be able to be a mom to all these children but I can be a mom to one. My God has such compassion for the poor, the oppressed, the orphaned. He has shown me that adoption is such a beautiful picture of His adoption of me into His family. I am called a child of God not because I did anything to deserve it but because while I was still filthy and broken, He took pity on me, He rescued me. He chose me.
And now He has placed adoption on my heart. I have no doubt it will be a part of my story.
