A Thread Unbroken

Available for Pre-Order on Amazon

Mei Li and the Wise Laoshi

By Kay Bratt

Illustrated by Monika Vass

Mei Li has just about had it with Cameron’s teasing, and she daydreams of having a fairy godmother. Instead she is granted with a wise old teacher from China who appears at her bedside! With his magic cane and his gentle ways, Laoshi takes Mei Li on an adventure to China and back to the day she was born to show her how her story began. Together they perch on a shaky pagoda and look at the Great Wall of China, a flowing river, and even pandas as the wise old Laoshi guides her through some hard questions she has been holding in her heart. Laoshi teaches Mei Li that a family is not just about who you were born to, but can also be created through the amazing gift of love.

Just in time to wrap and put under the Christmas tree for that special adopted child in your life!

[Buy now at CreateSpace, or Amazon]

..and of course we have to include a giveaway to celebrate what has been one of my most difficult projects yet! So share a link to this blog post on your fb wall and/or website and come back and comment that you did it. Last day to get in the drawing is Friday, Dec 9 @ midnight EST. The winner will be drawn on Saturday, December 10, just in time to get you out the prize of a signed collection of Kay Bratt books. You’ll receive an autographed Silent Tears (with brand ‘spankin new red/white cover), an autographed Chasing China, and of course an autographed Mei Li and the Wise Laoshi with a special note written to the child of your choice.

You will get an extra chance to win for each Amazon review you have written for a Kay Bratt book. Just be sure to alert me in the comment you leave below and tell me which ones you reviewed so I can double check and add your chances!

Thank you for your support of Mei Li and the Wise Laoshi!

The Bridge

A Novella

99 Cents on Kindle!

In present day China, an old woman’s house sits opposite an ancient bridge. Not just any bridge—but a special one because it has always been known as The Lucky Bridge. In olden days it was said that to walk over it during a marriage ceremony, or at the beginning of the New Year would bring the traveler good luck. Because of its reputation, over the years it has also become a popular place for young mothers to abandon their children. What to some may seem cruel is in reality their final gift to their offspring—one last chance to send them off to their new destinies with luck on their side. Jing, an old woman, is the unofficial and often reluctant guardian of the bridge. When no one else will, Jing steps in to prevent the children from frostbite, abuse and hunger, and then she delivers them safely to the orphanage. This has been her routine for many years, but what does Jing do when the latest child, a blind boy, burrows deep into her heart? Read ‘The Bridge’ to see how Fei Fei’s life is changed by the love of a lonely old woman. The Bridge is a short story of 17,000 words, approximately 72 pages. Fei Fei’s character is based on a real orphaned boy that Kay Bratt met during her time in China.

Download The Bridge now on Kindle or Nook

Chasing China; A Daughter’s Quest for Truth. 

Chasing China holds a warm place in my heart, and let me tell you why. Every child character in this book is based on a real child I met, or saw in China. Every description of the orphanage, towns, historical sites, and people are created from memory. Actually, the book is fiction, and the story line is fiction, but it is wrapped around much of the truth I experienced during my years in China. I really, really hope you like it. I feel like a student turning in my thesis and waiting for the professor to declare it worthy–with more to lose because of the emotional investment of my words. For those of you who decide to read it, thank you and I do hope you will consider giving it a review on Amazon, your reviews will help give it a boost. (inside secret…my next giveaway is freaking awesome and review writers…even the less-than-5-star givers!….will have an edge on winning it.. or should I say ‘her’!)

Chasing China; A Daughter’s Quest for Truth: After an episode of prejudice rocks her usually secure world, Mia hops a plane back to the country of her birth to search for details about her birth parents, and confront the feelings of abandonment she has kept buried throughout her life. What begins as a simple tour of the Chinese orphanage where she spent her first few years quickly becomes complicated as Mia fights to untangle the web of lies that is her finding details. As she follows the red thread back through her motherland, she is enamored by the history and culture of her heritage—strengthening her resolve to find the truth, even as Chinese officials struggle to keep it buried. With her unwavering spirit of determination, Mia battles the forces stacked against her and faces mystery, danger, a dash of romance, and finally a conclusion that will change her life. 

Now! To celebrate my release, I am doing a giveaway of an awesome prize! …and it’s simple to enter! Kelly over at Jiayin Designs has offered to give one of her amazing Chinese New Year Rabbits to the first winner.

For the second winner, I’ll give an autographed copy of Chasing China.

To participate:

1. Share about the release of Chasing China by either the “Share” button on fb or posting this link on your fb, blog or Yahoo group.

2. Go to Jiayin website here, look around and decide which is your favorite Jianyin item.

Then come back here or to the facebook thread and comment that you have shared about Chasing China and tell us your favorite Jiayin item, then you are in!

Drawing will be held Wednesday, November 9. Good Luck and thank you so much for your support as I wrote Chasing China! For your own copy, you can find Chasing China at this Amazon link. The Kindle version is at this Kindle Link. Nook can be found at B&N site.

Communication barriers can get quite amusing. I remember one specific encounter, which will always remain in my mind as one of my favorite “China Moments”.

At the veterinarian’s office, I asked my driver to come in to assist with translating. At that time, my Mandarin was mediocre at best, and I definitely had not studied any medical terms that would relate to animals. My driver would much rather stand outside and smoke but he reluctantly followed me through the old, rickety door to the busy office. Much faster than could have happened in an American clinic, we were shown to the doctor’s exam room.

Dr. Cao was nervous to have a foreign customer and fluttered about the room as if he had consumed one too many cups of Green Tea. Something about the shiny black hair, super-thick eyeglasses and long, supposed-to-be white lab coat reminded me of Jerry Lewis. To add to his already comical presentation, his wandering left eye made it very difficult to pinpoint exactly what or where the sweet-natured young doctor was looking at. Getting right down to business, the doctor gave the pup a quick once-over.

Max, my puppy, was very sick and between the Chinese/English dictionary, my driver and the small amount of English the doctor knew, we were doing okay with our interaction. However, towards the end of the examination, things got complicated.

Trying to be resourceful, the veterinarian pointed to the word specimen in the book and told me to bring it in the next day.

“What kind of specimen?” I asked my driver to ask the doctor.

The doctor looked very perplexed and thumped the word specimen in the tattered dictionary one more time, obviously believing the more he pointed it out, the easier it would be for me to understand.

(Things were about to get embarrassing for the clueless American and the frustrated doctor.)

“Does he want poop or pee?” I just came right out and asked my driver, trying to maintain a serious face and a strong hold on my wiggly puppy. I wanted to be sure; after all, it is not easy to get a specimen from an animal!

My driver’s English vocabulary was also lacking in bodily function verbage, so he translated for about five minutes to the doctor. (How do six words take so long to convert to the Chinese language?)

The doctor struggled to think of the correct English word, but after an unsuccessful attempt, he snatched the puppy from my arms, flipped it around, jerked up his tail and pointed to his little butt. “From HERE,” he said with total exasperation.

He stomped away, probably wishing that when Waiguorens decide to use his services, they would at least attempt to learn the language!

Over the last few years I have been invited and accepted many speaking engagements. It is always hard for me to get up in front of people to tell the story of my time in China. However, that was a promise I made to the children I knew and loved–that I would tell their stories, so whenever I consider declining I remember that vow and go through the fear and anxiety all over again. (Public Speaking….who likes that??)

This weekend I was the guest speaker at Camp China in Black Mountain, NC. The drive up was just Ben and I and it was a great three hours to just talk and enjoy the scenery. Once there, we checked in and unpacked and then wandered around to explore the campus.

The site has over 100 years of history and boasts beautiful mountain views, ancient trees and original housing structures. Robert E. Lee was the biggest connection to history and if the walls could talk, oh–what a story they’d tell.

We got the opportunity to see the children enjoying the evening, watching a movie and some just playing in the outdoors. Parents were practicing Chinese knot tying and calligraphy, so intent they were! The whole place had a feeling of joy lingering around.

As night fell, I became more and more anxious thinking about my presentation scheduled the next morning at 9;15. Though I have spoke many times in front of big groups, this is the first time to direct my story to so many adoptive parents of Chinese children. As hard as it is for me to tell it, I knew it would be harder for them to hear parts of it. I obsessed and worried over which stories to revisit, or which ones would be too painful for them, and how they would accept the way I explained some of the things I saw. By nightfall, I had worked myself into quite a nervous state and we retired to our room.

The room was cute in the way we felt like Ricky and Lucy in our matching beds.  (I thought about moving the nightstand and pushing the beds together but the thing was bolted to the wall!)  Ben wasn’t bothered, though. Much to my dismay, he quickly went to sleep. [It's camp so there was not a television and we could not get wifi so his Ipad was useless--sleep was the only thing he had to do.]

I, on the other hand, took the time to go over notes and review what I would present. I really wanted to get to sleep early, because it had been a very long day including a long drive. However, four hours later my mind was still reeling with what to say and what not to say! I could not go to sleep, even with a mild OTC sedative. (A few times the snores from the other bed almost prompted me to try smothering sweet hubby with a pillow as punishment for his easy release into sleep..)

Earlier in the day when we were unpacking our car, I had grabbed a few small torn bits of paper from the very back of the car to use as bookmarks for the excerpts I was going to read aloud during the presentation. They were two pieces of white paper with red polka dots–I assumed something Amanda had left from school. These slips were moved back and forth as I continued to change my mind about the best excerpts to use, they almost appeared to have feet of their own as they hopped back and forth between chapters.

As I lay in bed for the 4th hour with no sleep, one of those slips fell out of the place I had marked. Grrr! Which one had I chosen last? Now I’d have to go back over the whole entire presentation in my mind to refresh my now feeble memory. I picked up  the slip and noticed it was actually folded over. As I grumbled about my weary but unyeilding brain, I unfolded the slip and this is what I found inside:

Matthew 6:34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

I laughed and joked with God for a few minutes, closed the book and put away my notes. Twenty minutes later I was asleep. This morning I awoke feeling refreshed and ready to take on the day. The presentation went very well and yes, there were tears from me as well as the parents in the crowd. There were also smiles at the ‘good’ things I relayed to them. My words came naturally, as they usually do when I hand it over to the one who wants me to give the message anyway.

I reminded everyone that my story is that of one group of children from one specific orphanage and may not have been anything like what their children experienced. After over two hours of talking with them, I walked away feeling as if I made a lot of new friends and a few more advocates to educate others about institutional care in China. If we can help one child—it is worth all the anxiety I needlessly heap upon myself.

And from now on, I’m putting that polka dotted slip of paper under my pillow the night before an event and in my pocket when I stand behind that podium.

This blog post is a bit out of the norm for me because I usually don’t respond in any way to reviews on my book, Silent Tears; A Journey of Hope in a Chinese Orphanage. I remember when the book first came out and someone wrote a scathing, vicious personal attack and tried to pass it off as a review on Amazon. I read it and my body reacted in a very negative way as my brain took in the ugly words. I felt light-headed and nauseous and my first instinct was to pull the book and revoke the privileges I had given the world to peek inside my mind, my life and share the heart-aches I experienced in China. I called my husband at work and crying, I told him to go read what they had written about me in the review. [I was looking for some serious emotional support]

He talked me off the ledge, so to speak, and I’ll never forget what he told me, “Honey, the people who know you love you and understand what it is you are trying to do with this book. Why would you care what a complete stranger says?”  As I licked my wounds, I began to take to heart what he said and since that time have slowly built a defensive wall around me to deflect the barbs of cynicism thrown my way. To make it a bit easier to swallow, without any persuasion from me, the review was removed from Amazon because it did indeed attack my personal character rather than give feedback on the book content itself.

Over the last few years, I have asked readers who have contacted me after reading my book to submit reviews. So many of you have blessed me with your thoughts and opinions, and I especially appreciate when you write what Silent Tears did to help you understand your own adopted child, or when you state that reading my book prompted you to adopt, foster or support orphans in some way. Thank you! I also respect the reviews that are not so positive, because I believe everyone should be able to express their own views. Through it all, I have been determined to keep my promise to the children to tell their stories to the world. No amount of negativity or attacking my character can take me away from that goal.

The latest review posted [seen above] was interesting to me for several reasons. First let me say that the reviewer gave my book 3 stars, which is definitely better than 1 or 2 stars. I respect their opinion and to be honest, everyone has a different perception of what they read and the way they process information. This reviewer says my writing was only average and even a little dull—I can only respond to that description with the explanation that I did the best I could to keep everything completely accurate with no embellishment. If that comes across as dull, then so be it. It wasn’t dull when I was living it, to be sure! The reviewer also states that my words came across as portraying the USA to be perfect while describing China as a third-world country. In answer, the definition of third-world is ever changing so I won’t defend or deny that statement, but I honestly don’t remember ever insinuating America is perfect. Perhaps I need to go back and read my own story but I do remember I purposely stayed away from political topics and the only references I can recall about the USA was describing my bouts of homesickness. Ironically, after a few years abroad, I began to mentally consider China my home. For it was—at least for the time I was there and had made the decision to embrace it.

However, that being said I will publicly state I am proud to be an American. That does not mean I feel we are any better than anyone else in the world—because we are not. I think we should all be patriotic and claim our countries or get involved enough to help change things or just plain get out, but feel something! The reviewer says they hate their country and love it, too. That might be a common feeling by many but I was writing about our life in China—not America. I could give you an entire laundry list of what I feel needs to be changed in the USA, [half of it would be from the daily rant my husband gives me about America’s current state of affairs] but that is not what I am about or even the message I wanted to put out there. I believe I expressed in my book a balance in my thoughts about China. I tried to honestly describe the hardships of learning to live in a foreign country. As I became more familiar with the people, customs and history, I also conveyed the positive aspects that were becoming more visible to me the longer I stayed there. By about the middle of our assignment—a few years in—my love for the local Chinese people became evident, or at least I hope it did. Describing the foods and such was not an insult but rather an attempt to accurately describe what I was experiencing.

Did I criticize the government and policies that made it so common for abandonment and infanticide in their country? Darn right I did and I still do. I make it clear that the Chinese government can and should do more to make it possible for couples or single mothers to keep their disabled or unplanned children. Give them access to family health care, raise the one-child policy to two, extend services for prenatal care to the poor and educate teens about birth control. I don’t know the answers to their issues; I am not a politician and never want to be. I am only one person who has decided to be a child advocate for those who need it most—whether it is here in my ‘appreciated’ home in the United States of America or half way around the world in the enigmatic land of China. Take it or leave it—that is who I am. And to the reviewer above, thank you for your review. Your words once again fanned the flames of the fire that fuels my passion to do my small part to educate the world as to the travesties of the institutional care I personally witnessed in one Chinese orphanage.  ~Kay Bratt

Most of you know that I have been working behind the scenes for years to free Xiao Gou from her life sentence behind the cold walls of the orphanage.

Well, she was transferred from the orphanage that I knew her in to a very poor, isolated orphanage very far away. After some sleuth work and endless emails, inquiries, phone calls and prayers, we found her. However, this post isn’t about her–instead it is about meeting a silly, hilarous, happy little girl named Fu Ji

When I visited Xiao Gou last October, we were honored to meet her roomie. An adorable little girl about age 5 that was full of song and laughter, who when it was time for Amanda and I to leave, pleaded with us to “Hui Lai, hui lai..” [come back, come back] I can’t even find the words to describe how amazing her spirit was and how her disability didn’t seem to bother her. When I asked about her condition, I was told she was very fragile and could never go to school or even walk. That concerned me and if any of you know me by now– you know it was not to be the end of it for me.

Fast forward to a few months later and a man contacted me who had read my book. His name is Lou and he is a Chinese/American who lives in Texas. He wanted to know if I knew of other orphanages that could use his help. Lou is a very interesting man. He was born in China but came to the states many, many years ago. He never forgot his heritage and using his hard-earned financial means, he goes back to China often to do humanitarian projects; mostly in the Tibetan mountains for the really needy villages.

I told him about Xiao Gou and he and I have joined together to continue fighting for her rights. He went to personally meet her several weeks ago and I asked him to check on Fu Ji while he was there. It was my hope that he could get a better translation on what her actual disability is and what her prognosis is.

Lou came back with a report on Xiao Gou’s status, of which I still cannot discuss publicly, (But we are working on it!) and also was quite captivated by Fu Ji, just as we were.

Together we both tried to think of a way to help her. I remembered that I had once made the contact of an American doctor who came to operate on Xiao Gou while she was in China. Later, he was the doctor in America who did more for Xiao Gou when she came over to be fitted for her leg. I emailed him and told him about Fu Ji and asked his advice.

Coincidentally, when I discovered where Xiao Gou was last year, I had contacted him and he went to see her at her current orphanage to do a medical exam. While there, he got medical reports on many of the children. He looked through his files and located Fu Ji’s documents.

To make a long story short, Lou will be traveling back to China in May to again check on Xiao Gou, and the doctor will already be there with a foundation group to do some medical outreach in another region of China. The doctor has graciously offered to travel back to the SWI where Xiao Gou and Fu Ji live to meet Lou and examine both girls, and see if it is possible to set up a medical plan for Fu Ji.

Two little girls who would have never met if not for one fateful car accident several years ago. Without Xiao Gou coming to room with Fu Ji, who knows what heartbreak her future would hold. 

As for me, it is just a miracle and a blessing to me that I am still able to find a way to make a difference from the laptop located on my table in my cozy kitchen in the beautiful countryside of Georgia, USA. And admittedly, I am really nothing but the simple conduit that brings remarkable people together who use their gifts to help children. And a huge thank you to the Children of China Pediatrics Foundation. They have already done so much for Xiao Gou and other children in China.

After two weeks of hospital sitting, hospice visits, negotiations and red tape, it was time to move Harold and Lea from the rolling hills of West Virginia where they have lived all of their life, to the South Carolina suburbs. Unfortunately, after 62 years of marriage, this time they would not be going together or living under the same roof.

For years, Harold has cared for his bedridden sweetheart, but after many decades of being a strong and dedicated coal miner, and more years of recovery from various back surgeries, his body decided it was time to hang the white flag and surrender. The doctors say maybe cancer, plus a worn out heart, but the bottom line is the fight is winding down and Harold has been forced to finally give in and allow those around him to care for him. Throughout all of the hospital tests and relentless poking, prodding and being shuttled here and there, only one thing has been on Harold’s mind—his bedridden wife, Lea. With the onslaught of illness, others have taken his place to make sure she is clean, fed and comforted. But we all know that no one can take the place of your mate, especially the one who put that ring on your finger over 62 years before. Theirs is a true love story—and the tragic death of their daughter, long illnesses and other hardships have tried but never been able to break the bonds they have built together.

Their son, Dave, and his wife, Lisa, have traveled back and forth for weeks to care for and get the next stage over with in order to get both parents settled and comfortable. It has been a hard time of ordering medical supplies, interviewing caregivers, setting up a room, negotiating costs, and accomplishing so much in a short time that has also had to be split with comforting both parents. It was Dave’s hope that this move would mean he will be able to be with his dad when he draws his last breath, and ensure that mom is taken care of under his own supervision.

With the fulltime assistance of his wife, Lisa, who has taken a leave of absence from work, they plan to give Lea the care she deserves. The day had come and Dave arrived at the hospital to witness a heart-warming scene. The staff member who has been caring for Harold since his arrival was giving him a bath to prepare him for his trip to South Carolina.

As Dave walked up, he could see Robert, the caretaker, gently washing his father as he whispered to him how much he is going to miss him. Harold responded to him that he was going to miss him, too. What a contradiction to see tattooed, pierced Robert—all 6’4”, 325 lbs of him, shedding tears as he finished and watched Harold being rolled out the door, to the tune of the whole staff singing him Happy Birthday. Harold, as he has done for many years, had made quite an impact on those around him. And here on the anniversary marking his 85 years on this earth, they all knew they were sending him home to die. They also knew his story of being married and loyally caring for his wife for so many years, and knew that he would not be returning to her. Harold would unfortunately be going straight to a Hospice house, while his wife, Lea, would go to live with her son, Dave, in his home in South Carolina.

Meanwhile back at their home, the other ambulance had picked up Lea and was sitting beside the interstate, waiting on the ambulance that carried Harold. Dave brought up the rear in his truck, hooked up to a car trailer with his Dad’s truck on it & both trucks loaded with heavily with personal items of Harold’s and Lea’s that was too precious to leave behind in an empty home. The caravan would travel together and then part once they hit the South Carolina line.

Dave was surprised when the ambulance carrying Lea pulled off to the emergency lane. He immediately feared the worst and pulled behind it, got out and met the driver between the vehicles. This lady didn’t normally go along on transports, but instead was the office clerk responsible for helping Dave work through all the logistics of the transfer. She told Dave she didn’t want to miss this, so had asked permission to join this transport. He told her that was great, but wanted to know why they had stopped.

She said, “Look, our company won’t expect us back until close to midnight, so we were all talking and were wondering if instead of immediately going to your house as planned with your Mom, if you’d be okay with us taking her to Hospice, too & unloading her to spend a little time with your Dad one last time?” Dave had successfully kept up the stoic exterior until this moment, but when he realized that complete strangers were volunteering to add more time to what was already going to be an extremely exhausting day for them, to selflessly allow the couple to say goodbye to each other, the emotions he had built up flowed over. Through his tears, he told her that would be wonderful and they once again set out on the road.

They arrived in Rock Hill almost four hours later, and both ambulances pulled up at the Hospice house. The crew unloaded Lea, and then Lisa and Dave told Harold they had a birthday present for him. Harold, expecting something trivial that would probably sit unused at his bedside, murmured okay. The drivers, crew and Hospice workers joined in another round of Happy Birthday but in the next moment, no one could finish the rendition. Harold was the only one singing softly to himself when he was unloaded from the ambulance and saw his love, Lea. As his stretcher was pulled up next to hers, his eyes lit up and his only thought was holding on to her hand as tight and as long as those around him would allow. The two sat staring at each other in the beautiful balmy fall weather, as everyone around them struggled to control their emotions while witnessing the touching scene.

After a time, Dave told his dad that they had to go and get him settled in his new room, and take Lea to settle her in her new room. Harold’s reply was this, “Okay, especially mom, just take care of her, okay?” Her comfort was still the number one priority for him. Harold and Lea’s withered, clasped hands had to be pried apart so that they could be led away to their separate, final homes.

*Special thanks to Bryan, Leanne and the rest of the amazing crew of Best Ambulance Service.

This story is true and my connection is that Lisa is my twin sister. Today they will be attending the funeral of Harold, her father-in-law. He died less than 48 hours after his last reunion with his lifelong love, Lea. I know you may not know this amazing couple, but Harold’s son, Dave, has given me permission to write this tribute and if you’d like to leave an online condolence, you can do so here.

Online Condolence for Harold Akers

Arriving at the orphanage brought on a huge feeling of déjà vu. From the narrow back alley leading to the ancient gates, to the laoren (old people) sitting around bundled in coats smoking their brown cigarettes, it was the same sort of sad atmosphere that I experienced at the other orphanage. However, it was obviously a much poorer institute, without the frills to impress visitors that I have seen previously.
 
Anticipation at a bursting point, we all exited the cars and the director immediately asked if we wanted to come to her office first or see Xiao Gou. Um…..hello….doesn’t she realize I flew half way around the world to see the girl who captured my heart so long ago? I was so close—I couldn’t possible sit through a short meeting knowing she was only a mere feet away. Lucy explained that I was too excited to see Xiao Gou and we headed to the big, gray building that housed the children. In the door, the director led us down the surprisingly clean but very cold hall. The red Chinese New Year decorations hanging from the ceiling floated gently in the wind as we passed below, making me wonder just who had created the art work. We passed a big room that appeared to be used as a school room at one time. Now the desks were just jumbled or stacked together and all but abandoned. There was a boy of about 12 or so standing at the window with his jacket pulled tight around him, just staring at the brick wall. I wondered why he wasn’t in school and also why our arrival didn’t even break his concentration for a minute. He continued to stare and we walked on by.

At a door marked with a 218, the director knocked gently. In only a few seconds, the door opened and there stood Xiao Gou with a huge, shy grin on her face. I am not even sure what was going on around me, or even what Amanda was saying, as I was so over-whelmed with emotion and awe that despite the many obstacles, I had found her. I do remember I called her name, “Xiao Gou!” and went to her and hugged her. She was happy, yet a little wary, and I wasn’t completely sure at first that she remembered us. She looked beautiful, despite her chopped off hair. I expected her to be taller, and at first I thought she hadn’t grown much but now that I think about how I used to tote her around, and how at her current height that would be impossible, I know she has indeed grown quite a bit. Her hair of course, was cut very short—which made me sad because I know what a prissy girl she is. She was wearing a long, pink coat and was using the same antique-looking crutch I had seen in a picture. I asked about the crutches that we donated that I mailed and they said they were too tall for her yet. The speed at which she moved with that one leg and one crutch is amazing—she uses quite a little wiggle and it was hard to see the technique under the long coat, but she doesn’t struggle at all to walk.
 
We sat down on the bed that the director said was Xiao Gou’s, and Xiao Gou sat between Amanda and I. Using my choppy Mandarin, I told her I had missed her very, very much. She didn’t reciprocate the words, but instead continued to give me a shy smile. Feeling a bit surreal at the situation, I brought out the little photo book we had made her, and we went through pictures of her with us in our house in China and of her with her friends in the other SWI. I would point at a picture of her and ask her who it was and she’d exclaim, “Wo!” –So she could recognize herself. Then I started pointing to ones of her and Amanda and she said, “Jie Jie“. (big sister) The only ones she didn’t recognize were of her friends in the orphanage, which I thought very strange. Maybe she has buried a lot of her memories from there, I am not sure.
 
When I called her Xiao Gou, she laughed and told Lucy that she had forgotten that was her name but we had reminded her. She was really pleased each time she heard it. The longer we were there, the more relaxed and playful she became, until she was cuddled fairly close to Amanda with me sitting near, trying to refrain from grabbing her and hugging and kissing her for an hour at least. I know to a little girl, three years is a long time and I didn’t want to come across too strong or scare her with my emotions, so I played it fairly cool.  However, it was obvious to those around us that I could not get enough of looking at her, and I am not sure if they heard the thumping of my heart or the silent prayers of thanksgiving that I was offering up for being able to be reunited with her. I wanted to drink in every moment with her and I wished desperately for some privacy that I knew would not come.

I wanted to know as much as possible about her current life situation so I started by asking questions about the room. Where does she sleep? Who sleeps beside her? Does the ayi sleep in the same room? What time does she go to school? What time does she come back? How is she doing in school? Does she take care of her own colostomy needs? Etc..etc..
 
We brought out the book of puzzles we brought her and with a very determined look on her face, she immediately started working on one. I told her not to pull out all the pieces because I really thought it was may be too difficult of a level for her. But as we all talked, she quickly put the puzzles together. During the ‘puzzle time’, the director told us Xiao Gou is the smartest girl in their orphanage and I believe it! Her personality was the same, if not a bit more serious. But snippets of her sassiness kept emerging and she let out a few magnificent giggles that were music to my ears.
 
The lady who is Xiao Gou’s ayi was there and she was quite overwhelmed with all of the commotion. I got a very good feeling from her and it was evident with the body language of the children that she is a good nanny. In that room she is in charge of care for Xiao Gou, a baby boy of about age 2 and an adorable 5-year-old girl named Fu Ji. The ayi has a bed in the room and I was relieved to see each bed had a thick quilt folded up on top, ready to use. It was amazingly cold in there! However, I spotted a heater high up on the wall and asked if it worked. They said it did and that made me feel better, even if it is only used to warm the room for baths. There was also a working television in the room and a table and two chairs used for eating meals. All in all, it was more cozy than I expected and a complete contradiction to the institutional atmosphere of the other orphanage I worked in. But that being said, it was still not a place I would want a child to live out their childhood. It was gray, cold and even with the attempt at brightening the atmosphere with various wall hangings and decorations, it brought me a heavy feeling of depression.
 
The other child in the room, Fu Ji, is the happiest girl I’ve ever seen in an orphanage! She kept smiling and rocking back and forth on her chair. She was so excited to see us so I soon told her to come join us on the bed. She hopped over as if she was saying, “I thought you’d never ask!” We brought out the Tootsie Pops and they were a huge hit. I did a no-no and stuffed several in the pockets of the girls. All this was going on with a small crowd of people watching everything and taking pictures—I really don’t think they are very accustomed to seeing foreigners. Despite her aversion to being the center of attention, Amanda did very well and just focused on Xiao Gou and Fu Ji, and blocked out the audience. The girls were obviously smitten with Amanda, and Xiao Gou even looked a bit jealous a few times when too much attention was given to Fu Ji. 
 
After some time, we had to say goodbye because the director wanted to take us to her office to partake in a snack of fruits. We promised Xiao Gou and Fu Ji that we’d be back tomorrow. Xiao Gou accepted our goodbye in her usual reserved manner while Fu Ji kept bellowing, “Mingtian hui lai! Mingtian hui Lai!” (Tomorrow come back!)

On the way to the office, the director asked if we would allow them to take us to dinner. Though we were starving, we were more exhausted and really didn’t have the energy to sit through a Chinese formal meal. But in China, it is all about formalities so we said yes.  After a few minutes of snacking on fruit (a banana never looked so good!), we headed to the restaurant.

Once we arrived at the busy Chinese restaurant, I had a problem. It had been a full day (no pun intended) without even once using the bathroom and even though I had put my bladder through Olympic training before leaving the states, I had pushed it way past its limits. I asked to use the restroom and psyched myself up for the traditional Chinese toilet. But lo and behold, it was Western-style toilet! But hold your applause, because it was marked with footprints and soaked with pee, which meant I would have to hover. There was not enough toilet paper available for wiping the seat clean, so I prepared for business.

Unfortunately, my back is not what it used to be so I had to beg-plead-bargain assistance from Amanda. She had to hold my shoulders as I hovered because my back muscles (and frequent spasms) would not allow me to hold myself up in that precarious position for more than 10 seconds. Unfortunately, the room was tiny, (it only held one toilet) and everyone was sitting on the other side of the door, and could obviously hear us. Amanda felt like she couldn’t hold on to me long enough, as I was holding close to 10 gallons in my reserve tank. It just wouldn’t stop and my cut off valve was not functioning! So she started saying, “I have to let go, Mama! I can’t hold you!”
 
I was laughing and yelling, “NO! Amanda! Don’t let go! Don’t let me fall on the pee!” We were both hysterical with laughter— it had been a physically and emotionally exhausting day that had started at 4 am, and I think we were past silly and rounding the bend of delirious. I was finally able to stop the flow before she dumped me on the wet seat, and I realized my training should have included hovering instead of just holding.
 
So– now that I’ve told way too much– back to the meal. We sat down and the first thing they do is bring us forks! How embarrassing, but we didn’t use them. We were a little rusty on the chopsticks but got the hang of it after awhile. We would have made Ben proud because we really tried most things (except fish for me) and didn’t even squirm at the whole birdies or the shrimps with antennas and eyes. Many of the dishes were familiar and I believe the director was pleased with our willingness to try their food. She may not have realized, but that wasn’t my first Chinese meal. She did insist, however, that me and Amanda have some Bai Jiu. (White liquor) I continued to say no and she was disappointed. I know that she wanted to use it to make toasts— as she made about 50, but they instead used their milk or water, and we used coke. Each time she would stand up and make a toast, Amanda and I would also jump to our feet and we had no idea what she was toasting to. We caught a few words here and there but her local dialect was almost impossible for our amateur ears to understand.
 
I was so relieved that the director was such a nice woman. Her compassion and politeness towards us was pleasantly surprising. It is really humbling to be treated like such significant guests, when I know that we are really just average, everyday people. The formal meal, just like I remembered, seemed to go on forever. I waited the appropriate time and then began asking questions about Xiao Gou. I felt that with the unknowns of Lucy staying or not staying with me to translate, I had better get as much information as possible while I had the chance. My focus never wavered, I knew I was not there to enjoy a fancy meal or rub elbows with important people. My reason for this journey was sitting in a frigid room, in an all but forgotten building, miles away.

That is all for now. The next day after a nice visit and a shopping trip with Xiao Gou for her and the rest of the orphanage, and her being pushed around the store in a shopping cart by Amanda, the story takes a dramatic turn.  I faced a few minutes of complete fear, along with some positive feedback mingled in with negative news. Because of the sensitive nature of Xiao Gou’s story and the realization that random words can affect the fate of a child, I will only tell more of our story when we get our happy ending. It may be still just out of reach, but I will never give up. For now, I will continue to tell myself that my gut says Xiao Gou is in as safe as a place as can be expected for the moment, and that she has an ayi that genuinely cares for her.