Silent Tears Book
Read an excerpt below from the book, Silent Tears!
Chapter 4
Ann asked me to initiate a new volunteer named Yolanda. She warned me that Yolanda was very outspoken and flamboyant, and asked if I would caution her about making derogatory remarks to the staff about the care and treatment of the children. She is worried we might be banned from our volunteer work if anyone is too judgmental.
I met Yolanda at the coffee shop near the orphanage, and as soon as I saw her, I knew there was going to be trouble. For one thing, the temperature was supposed to hit about 105 degrees that day. I was dressed for it in thin khakis, white T-shirt and hair up, but not Yolanda. She was Spanish, forty-one years old, and a fitness fanatic with a body that bespoke long workouts over many years. Yoli (she instructed me to call her) was wearing two shirts over a pair of tight silk pants with stiletto heels, her dark hair a wild mess of curls around her face.
Yoli was a fast talker and rapidly took me through her life story and what had brought her to China. Based on her many anti-American comments, I figured she was probably disappointed that I was going to become her volunteer partner.
Jumping in when she finally paused for air, I quickly shifted the conversation over to expectations of us at the orphanage. I tried to convey to her the seriousness of not making a bad impression and not criticizing the care of the children. I thought I was getting my point through, but was about to find out that not much gets through to Yoli.
After going through the proper administrative channels, we made our way to the baby area. As soon as she had taken one look, she started in with disdain and attitude. I told her she had to remove her shoes and wear the ones provided, but it was obvious she resented parting with her deadly weapons – although she did so and grudgingly put on the ragged slippers we all had to wear. The slipper policy is one of the few rules put in place to stop the spread of outside disease and one we all strictly obey.
For a short while, we enjoyed playing with the babies, but soon it was feeding time. It was the same as always: the workers prop the bottles on sheets and allow the babies to suck for about five minutes; then come and snatch the bottles away. The babies still appear hungry; I am not sure why they are not allowed more milk.
Yoli and I took the bottles we were able to hang onto and tried to move around to the babies who had yet to be fed. One little preemie boy looks like a shriveled-up old man. They never move him and his head is completely flat on the back from always lying in the same position. He is so skinny; he looks to weigh not more than four pounds. They had not bothered to give him a bottle so I grabbed one and rushed over. I realized why they hadn’t bothered; he was so weak he did not have the strength to suckle. I spent the next few minutes giving him drinks in small bursts by squeezing the nipple directly into his mouth.
When it came time to undress them for their baths, Yoli asked me to take care of the premature boy because she was afraid of hurting him. I picked him up and laid him on my left arm with his face in my hand. I was amazed at the way his little body fit on my slender arm. I massaged his shoulders and neck to help with the stiffness. I rubbed his tiny eyebrows because I remembered my baby girls both used to like that, and I was looking for a way to make him feel loved and comforted without causing more pain.
The worker took him from me and held him with one hand under his head and one hand holding his ankles. He was so stiff that he looked like a play doll. She held him brutally under the cold water, and Yoli wept. I was trying to hold it together because Yoli had already made them angry by her outburst of emotion.
I had prepared Yoli for the cold, brusque way in which the ayis behaved toward the babies, but it apparently had not registered. Under her breath, Yoli was calling the ayis dirty names; she thought they could not understand. They knew enough to know she was talking about them, so I kept my head down and did not respond. I know Yoli thinks I am a wimp, but I do not want to make things worse for the children.
The disgusted looks Yoli kept throwing their way did nothing but infuriate the women more. The workers passed the babies under the stream of water and then roughly dumped them into their cribs with a piece of clothing. Most of the time, they threw the clothes over their faces, causing the babies to struggle for breath underneath. Yoli and I rushed around dressing them and trying to calm them after the shock of the cold showers. What Yoli does not understand is the more compassion, pity, and outrage we show on our faces— the rougher the staff is with the children. Two of the infants had bruises that were not there last week; based on their limited mobility I can only imagine how they got them.
I hope Yoli’s attitude will not get us thrown out. Even though we cannot change the situation, at least we give the babies a little love and care while we are there. What I had learned from Ann is that we simply have to keep silent and do what we can. All the histrionics only make it worse.
The boy preemie is really struggling and I can’t get him out of my thoughts. I want him to prove to the workers that he can survive. It is obvious in the disapproving looks they give us that they think it is a waste of time to nurture him. If nothing else, this orphanage runs a flawless model of survival of the fittest. One final thought for the day-I hope that Yoli will not want to come back. To lose a new volunteer is sad, but it will be better for the children.
Selected Reviews for Silent Tears:
As the mother of a child adopted from China, I was very interested in reading this book. When it arrived, I couldn’t put it down until I got to the last page and yes, I cried throughout.
Kay Bratt tells an important story about the institutional environment so many of our children were raised in. Understanding the trauma they have been through goes a long way to knowing how to help them recover. While this is the story of one orphanage in one country, I imagine the scenarios could be true in far too many places. A must read for parents adopting from an orphanage.
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I’ll admit that as one of the many people who read Kay’s email updates while she was in China, I was predisposed to like this book. When I got it however, I found myself devouring it, and then reading it again.
Kay writes directly from the heart. There is no flummery, no purple prose, nothing to detract from the purity of emotion as she takes you through her challenging (and ultimately hopeful) experiences. This is no easy ride either. I am a paramedic of nearly twenty years, having plied my trade in an urban setting for most of that time, so not much gets to me. I do have a soft spot for children, and there were several spots in this book where I had to put it down and collect myself before I could read further. Kay’s ability as a writer to draw you in and make you acutely feel her joys and sorrows, is truly outstanding.
This book is not just about the orphans of China, it’s also about the transformative and strengthening power of faith and hope. It’s a story that needed to be told and it’s lessons are ones we call all benefit from. God bless Kay for her strength and courage. She may scoff at the appellation “hero”, but to me, she surely is one.
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I started this book intending to read it slowly. Well, I could not put it down! It is beautifully written and insightful. I love the honesty of the author as she is down and then back up with her emotions. She gives an excellent picture of what life is like in a Chinese orphanage, which is shocking to say the least. The best part; however, is that it is a “journey in hope”. I am so encouraged to see what one person can accomplish. We should all be so blessed to find an area in our lives that we can make a difference. I HIGHLY recommend this book!
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Kay, having been a small part of your heroic efforts in the orphanage, I am living each moment with you in the book! I can just see every face and smell the baby rooms; different each visit depending upon the circumstances, the many dirty diapers, wretched rice milk, etc.; and feel those little bodies…heavy, stiff, bony or limp, against me. I am moved beyond words as I turn each page. The way you have written it sounds just like you as you speak, open and from the heart, with nothing but love and determination coming through. I feel as if you are talking to me again, back in those China days. If only your soft Southern, ladylike speech could be transmitted from the page! That’s one thing the readers who don’t know you are missing. (At least you mention in the beginning that you are from the south, so they should be reading with a southern accent in their heads!) Next you must do a “book on tape” for the full effect!! I really am blown away. I started your book last night and could not stop….I kept thinking just a little more, then I got to page 276…Wow, I was so pleased to be included in your book. That day changed my life forever, and Peter’s too. I’m so happy it meant enough to you to be included…thank you! Your words were very kind, I’m glad I seemed in control that day – it was pretty tough, but I knew it was not about me, but about giving warmth and love to the little ones, just as you mention other times in the book. God bless you.
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This book is an excellent read. I first became aware of the plight of these children a few years ago after several couples that I knew adopted from China. Kay Bratt’s experience as a volunteer in a Chinese orphanage does not simply confirm the troubled state of the children but goes much further to show how one person can make a difference and bring forth change. Kay’s open willingness to share her personal story makes for an interesting, realistic and touching read. Highly recommended!
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My book arrived yesterday and as soon as I put my daughters to bed, I tore into it. At 1:30am, my husband wondered why our light was still on. I couldn’t stop reading. My own silent tears flowed down my cheeks all night long. Less than five months ago, we adopted a 21-month-old girl who needed open-heart surgery from China. I couldn’t’ stop thinking about her situation the entire time I was reading this book.
I’m going to encourage every one of my adoptive friends to read this book. This is a “must” read for parents adopting from China orphanages. Thank you for everything you did those 4 years, Kay. Thank you for keeping your writing real and uncensored.
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Thank you, Kay Bratt, for writing this book!
One of my daughters spent her first 10 months in the orphanage that is the subject of Silent Tears. Over the years, this child has shared many painful memories of her infancy. (And yes, babies are people who retain memories!) What an incredible gift to find someone who was there and who has taken the time to document the conditions these lovely children endured. We have very little pre-adoption history to share with our child. Thanks to Kay’s work, however, our daughter can feel confident both that her early memories are accurate and that her childhood struggles were grounded in the neglect she so clearly recalls.
Our baby, who is rapidly becoming a young woman, faced many of the challenges Kay describes toward the end of the book. Her ability to meet and overcome those challenges has been nothing short of stunning. Having watched this transformation in my own child, I was pleased to see that the author chose to use the “journey of hope” metaphor not only for her own experience in China but also for the journeys of the children. I was also happy to see Ms. Bratt recommend that adoptive parents seek professional help as the needs of neglected and abused children often far outstrip the skills of even the most experienced parent.
Silent Tears is a gift both to adoptive and pre-adoptive parents. Perhaps more importantly, however, it is a gift to a generation of children whose early histories have evaporated into the mist.
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This wonderfully written book paints an honest picture of life inside some orphanages in China. It is heart wrenching and difficult to read at times but it is a book that is a must read for anyone touched by international adoption. To me, it is a gift. A gift to help me understand things my daughter may or may not have experienced and to view things from a perspective I have yet to see personally. Most of all it is a message of hope, hope for what can still be done for so many waiting children. Thank you, Kay, for sharing your story and touching our hearts but most of all for loving the children. May we all learn from your experience and follow your lead.
