My "Waiting" Waiting Child

By Kim J

"Mahari has been waiting for you by the gate every day," the driver told me. And true to his word, the first day I set foot in Ethiopia and arrived at Horizon House, there was Mahari, 5½, my 'waiting' waiting child, at the gate. He saw me in the van, recognized me from the photo album I sent over weeks earlier, and waved furiously. He ran to the door of the van and immediately reached out to help me with the bags I was carrying, bags that were obstructing our first hug! He wanted those bags out of the way so he could officially hug his mom. He proudly unbuttoned the first couple of buttons on his oxford shirt to show me that underneath it he was wearing the t-shirt I sent for him with a family who traveled a few weeks earlier. His wait for the woman who sent the t-shirt was over.

After the hug, our second joint project was to play soccer in the courtyard. He and his friends were amazing everyone with their foot skills. I am a soccer coach in the US and I couldn't believe the talent these boys possessed. At 5½, Mahari was more talented than my best players, who were 2-3 years older. They had no equipment and Mahari was wearing shoes that were at least two sizes too small, but still he was a stand out. From time to time, I had to leave our game and meet with the other families and the orphanage staff, but he always wanted to know where I was every minute. On that first day we communicated mostly through hand signals since my weak Amharic matched his English.

I will admit that my reasons for choosing a waiting child, an older child, are tinged with my own biases. I went through the baby stage with my oldest child and while I love him more than life itself, that stage was challenging. With an older child, the diapers are skipped as well as the uncertainty as to why an infant is crying, the sleepless nights, and the terrible twos. Clinically, the older a child is, the more information you have on that child's health and development. Generally speaking, you know if certain milestones have been hit or not, and I like that certainty. Also, I feel for those older kids who have to watch, week after week, as their younger orphanage mates are picked up by their forever families. They are every bit as valuable — they are just older.

Mahari has been home for over a month now and is already as much my child as any baby I could have borne or adopted. The orphanage director said it takes the children some time to adopt us, because we have had longer to process our paperwork, longer to adjust to their presence in our lives. I knew that Mahari had adopted me too, when on our first morning together as a family in the Addis Ababa Hilton he woke up and came over to me, put his hand up to my face, smiled and said, "Mommy!" And now, he is no longer a waiting child, waiting by the gate for his mom. He is home at last — the wait is over.

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