Part 14 (1/2)

Earlier in the week we were on our way to the camera store and Joy began singing when she heard music streaming out of one of the shops. I had sung Christmas carols to her at night when I put her to bed. The soft melodic tones helped to calm her spirit before drifting off to sleep. I continued to wonder how artistic she would be when she was older as I watched her enjoy the puppet show.

One nice thing about time is that it doesn't stop. At last, December 27 arrived, the day for the Giving and Receiving Ceremony. I dressed up in a black velvet dress and had bought a pretty outfit for Joy. The ceremony would take place in Thai Nguyen, about an hour and a half north of Hanoi.

Joy and I sat in the back of the van, and I held her in my arms as there were no car seats. On the way, we stopped and picked up a woman doctor that worked for Anne. She handed me an envelope that contained money to ”help get the mother back on her feet.” I did not ask any questions and did not open the envelope to see how much it contained.

I looked forward to once again seeing the countryside. After leaving downtown Hanoi, buildings were replaced with flat, luscious fields inundated with lots of small lakes. Eventually the flatness gave way to green rolling hills like the waves of the sea. Young Vietnamese women could be seen working in the flooded lands wearing the Non La, or Vietnamese hat. The hat is only worn in Vietnam and is made of leaves and bamboo. I had purchased two, one for Manisha and one for Joy as a souvenir, but left them on a plane somewhere between Vietnam and Florida.

We parked the van at the Department of Justice where the Giving and Receiving Ceremony would be held and walked inside. We were ushered into a small room where a short, elderly man, the equivalent to a court officer, sat us down. Joy's mother, Luu, walked in and took a seat to the right of us. Luu was teary eyed and emotional as Joy rested quietly in my arms. When Luu reached for Joy to hold her one more time, she refused to go.

The ceremony began and the Court Officer glanced through the doc.u.ments and asked us both some general questions.

”Is this what you want to do?”

I said, ”Yes.”

He asked Luu, ”Is this what you want to do?”

She nodded.

It was all very official, and afterwards, he smiled, congratulated us, and offered to take our picture. I handed him my camera and he took two pictures of all of us standing beside a bust statue. A red Vietnamese flag with a yellow star hung limply to the back of us. Luu held a handkerchief in her hand which she used to dab her teary eyes.

After the ceremony we were dismissed to leave. As I followed Joy's birthmother down the steps outside the courthouse, I watched her walk away in a moment of personal reflection. She was returning to her life before Joy. With little prospect of better things for herself, she was willing to give her daughter that opportunity. I wished her good health and happiness as my life would be changed forever because she was brave. Joy would have hope of a wonderful future and a chance to live out her dreams.

In 1999, Vietnam had the highest abortion rate of any country in the world.( The Christian Post, March 31, 2008, ”Vietnam Man Runs 'Abortion Orphanage,” by Margie Mason, AP medical writer) Luu could have made the easy, selfish choice to end her baby's life. Nine years later as I pen these words, my eyes are full of tears as I picture what could have been and what happens every day across America. Suppose Luu had not been courageous. I never would have known Joy's contagious smile, her sweet hugs, her selfless love, her charming beauty, and her endless creativity. Most of all, Luu, through G.o.d's grace, gave me a priceless treasure and a pearl of great price.

A few years ago, I wrote a poem about Joy, and I dedicate it to Luu and all birthmothers who endure the pain and humiliation of bearing a baby out of wedlock; who choose life over death; sacrificial love over their own personal comfort; good over evil, and beauty over trash. May G.o.d use this poem to sear the conscience of those women who teeter on the verge of sorrow and regret. May they be as brave as Luu and make the heroic choice of letting their baby breathe, someday ride a bike, get married, and have children of their own. May they picture their ”bundle of joy” chasing b.u.t.terflies in a field of their own hopes and dreams. Through their courageous sacrifice and the gift of adoption, another woman's empty arms can be full of ”joy.”

My Joy My Joy, my valentine, born in my heart, My priceless treasure from a world apart.

My Joy, my daughter, who fills me with love, May G.o.d richly bless you from his storehouse above, My Joy who showers me with hugs and sweet things, Pictures I cherish, who tells me her dreams My Joy, a gymnast, a star in third grade, My Joy, a sweet kiss and ”I love you” each day.

My Joy, with little hands who fixes my hair when I'm hot, My Joy, who forgives me when I blow up like a steam pot My Joy, may you grow in G.o.d's love every year, And each Valentine's day we always be nearer and dear, My Joy, eat lots of chocolate, draw pictures and have fun, For our journey together has only just begun My Joy, my daughter, who I thought I would never see I'll love you forever, you shall always be My valentine wrapped in hugs and a kiss, From your mom, our lazy cats, our loud dogs, and your big sis.

Under Vietnamese law, Joy was legally my daughter. I breathed a sigh of relief and enjoyed the trip back to Hanoi a lot more than the trip to Thai Nguyen.

The hard part was ahead-leaving her behind.

Chapter Thirty.

Do not let your hearts be troubled...

John 14:1 After we arrived back at the Lillie Hotel, I packed an overnight suitcase to go to the airport. We had to fly to Ho Chi Minh to drop Joy off with Anne. I would fly back to Hanoi and leave on December 30th. It would take two days to get back to Gainesville. I didn't want to be traveling on New Year's Eve.

When I purchased my airplane tickets, I had jokingly asked the Vietnamese Airlines attendant if they were flying on January 1.

”No,” He said.

I asked, ”Why not?”

”No customers.”

I didn't want to be the first.

After time had gone so slowly over the past couple of weeks, the minutes became like a blur. In a matter of hours I would be leaving Vietnam. Joy had come so far in such a short amount of time. I was reminded of I John 4:18, that says ”...perfect love drives out fear.” Not that I had given her perfect love, but G.o.d in his mercy had made up the difference.

John 16:24 says, ”Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete.”

As we waited at the airport for our flight, I reflected on my conversation with Mr. King earlier. Why had G.o.d allowed me to even know about the investigation of Anne? I had to take captive every thought as every cell in my body cried out to Him to bring Joy home. G.o.d had not abandoned Manisha in Nepal, and I knew He would take care of Joy. Although she would miss me for a time, as when Jesus left his disciples, He promised them that their grief would turn to joy (John 16:22).

We boarded the plane in the early evening to fly to Ho Chi Minh. North to south, Vietnam is 1,615 miles long and 375 miles at its widest point. To the east, it's bordered by Cambodia, Thailand, and Laos. Ho Chi Minh is located in the mid to southern part of Vietnam. As I peered out the window, I reflected back to when I flew to Nepal to adopt Manisha. Excited to be adopting my first daughter, I remembered looking down over the flat Vietnamese terrain on the way to Thailand. Little did I know then that just a few years later, I would be back adopting another little girl from Vietnam.

It was 709 miles to Ho Chi Minh, so the flight took only a couple of hours. We were served a traditional Vietnamese meal with chicken noodles that tasted even better than usual since it would save us from being hungry when we arrived. Joy settled in comfortably, and it was fun to watch her as her fear of new things had been replaced by a curiosity to explore.

She was seated to the right of me, her little legs just barely reaching to the front edge. I latched her seatbelt around her and, unlike Manisha, who gave me fits when I strapped her in, Joy was content to sit still. I lamented we weren't headed to Hong Kong instead of Southern Vietnam. After so many concerns about health issues-scabies, anemia, skin infections, autism, being small for her given age, and developmental delays, I began to appreciate even more how perceptive she was.

We arrived in Ho Chi Minh after dark and although we weren't able to see much, I could tell it was a lot different from Hanoi. A large city teaming with people, it churned with activity and brimmed with night life that was almost nonexistent in Hanoi. We took a taxi to the hotel, which was a little more upscale than the Lillie. With the Vietnamese adoption done, I felt a freedom I had not felt before. Sitting in a different hotel in new surroundings, I was excited-if only I didn't have to leave Joy the next day. She now easily went to bed and slept through the night without waking up crying.

The next morning, a taxi took us to Anne's home and in a brief downtown tour of Ho Chi Minh, I was surprised at how much it reminded me of America. Even more Western than Hanoi, it was a big metropolitan city full of people working, traveling, and enjoying life, a blend of Vietnamese culture and economic prosperity.

Was this not part of what the Vietnam War was about, to give the Vietnamese economic freedom and capitalism? Even today there isn't religious freedom, but that may soon come. Perhaps the best way to bring about freedom of religion is to provide people with a feeling of empowerment. Freedom in one area is contagious-it spills over into others.

After seeing a little bit of Ho Chi Minh, I was glad to have spent most of my time in Hanoi. If I had to be somewhere in Vietnam for a month, I would have chosen smaller and more conservative Hanoi over Ho Chi Minh.

The taxi dropped us off at Anne's home. Out front were tropical Vietnamese flowers and shade trees. The building was set back a few hundred feet from the main road, so it had a quiet, secluded feeling away from the street noise. When we walked in, we were greeted by one of her staff who took us to Anne's office.

I had never met Anne before. She was six feet tall, a rather large middle aged woman, with on-going medical issues with her leg and needing a cane to get around. She sat at her desk in the middle of a s.p.a.cious, rectangular room with a high ceiling. The desk was cluttered with papers and on the floor stood piles of folders. I wondered how she could find anything.

She rolled back from the desk and stopped her activity to talk with me about Joy. After a while, she told me about herself and how she came to be involved with adoptions in Vietnam. Her many stories reminded me of a cat with nine lives.

”By the way,” she said, ”A family in Gainesville, Texas will be here in March to adopt Thi My-Sa.”

Before I could find out more, another adoptive family stopped by. Since they had some business they needed to discuss, I thanked Anne and got up to leave. As I walked outside to take in some fresh air, I met another adoptive parent with his little boy who was about three. We talked and shared our stories.

His new son was recovering from abdominal surgery and had a temporary colostomy. I was touched that he and his wife were willing to undertake the adoption of a child with such a serious medical condition. As he shared with me their adoption journey, he told me about a biological son of theirs who had the same malady. When they got word of this little boy, they knew he was meant to be their child. I heard similar stories from others in my brief stay at Anne's home. Does G.o.d not bring each child to the family that was meant for them?

There were several children that Anne was fostering, and she had also adopted a little Vietnamese girl that was four. Her daughter, Jade, took a liking to Joy and wanted to show us her bedroom. We followed her upstairs and she gave us a tour. Her room looked like any other American child's-br.i.m.m.i.n.g with Disney movies, books, and stuffed animals.

Afterwards we went back downstairs as Anne's staff had prepared lunch. Joy was clingy and wouldn't let me out of her sight. I think she feared I was going to leave. She would get excited playing with the other children and leave me, only to come running back to make sure I was still there. She had stacked her little suitcase beside mine to rea.s.sure herself I wasn't going anywhere without her. I hated the thought of leaving her in just a few hours.

One of the cooks came in and coaxed my daughter into another room to feed her. I knew this would be the best time to leave. I didn't want to let Joy know I was going as it would be too heartbreaking. I would have to slip away quietly. I remained silent without saying goodbye as the staff person carried her off into an adjoining room. I sat a little longer wis.h.i.+ng I didn't have to go. I asked someone to make sure she was happy eating.

”She fine,” she said. ”She eating.”

I thanked her and grabbed my suitcase, eyeing Joy's suitcase that now stood all alone beside her stroller. It would be a difficult three weeks until I saw her again. I walked slowly down the long hallway out front to wait on the taxi Anne had called for me, which showed up a few minutes later.