The Orange Tree

I debated for a while whether or not to share this story, but it is so poignant, I decided it was worth sharing. When you adopt an older child it is difficult not to think about all the things you have missed in their lives before joining your family. Of course you think of milestones - first smile, first steps, first words. But there are other things also. The night we got Kaleb to the guest house and put on his pajamas, I noticed a really bad scar on his knee. It almost looked like a burn, but I had no idea what happened to cause it. It has been such a glaring reminder of all I don't know about his life before and what he has endured.

The other night I was helping him dry off after his bath and I pointed out all his little owies from falling off his bike. He pointed to the big scar and in his own way he told me the story. It went like this:

Ehtiopia. Hungry. Hungry. See Tree. Orange. Climb. Up. Up. Fall Down. No Band-Aids. At night, no sleep.

I asked him if anyone saw him fall. He said no. I asked if anyone helped him. He said no. I asked him if he got the orange. A huge smile came over his face and he said yes. He told me he took it home, got a knife, cut it up and it was yummy. The oldest he could have been when this happened was 4 years old. As I hugged him and rubbed lotion on his scar, I promised him I would always have band-aids.