--Julia

I am working on a new memoir project about our oldest daughter who passed away in 2021. 

This past week, our church started preparing to fill these shoeboxes to send around the world at Christmas time. 

Here are the events as I remember them from 2013 as we were in Ukraine to adopt our daughter and the day she received her shoebox. 

I still tear up every year as I see those boxes piled up, ready to be sent out.

During the month of December, when every day felt like we were almost back to the weekend of no progress, time felt like it moved so fast. These two weeks of holidays felt like slow motion.

January 4 came and went with no update from the man supposed to sign our papers with the SDA. Maybe he signed them, and we simply just didn’t get a message? Maybe he didn’t? There was no way for us to know at this point. All phone calls were going straight to voicemail.

That afternoon, we were asked to bring Lena to visit the orphanage, because it would be a special day and they didn’t want her to miss it.

We walked into the main living room in the big building of the orphanage. Kids were sitting all around in chairs, in the floor, on beanbags. They were everywhere. Some of the smaller kids called her name as we walked through the doors, and she ran to them. My eyes filled with tears as she held them close. She then called Lydia and Josiah to sit with her and the others. She knew what was going on. Ronnie and I did not.

A man walked in the room, and I heard shuffling outside the door. I found it strange that only one adult worker was in the room other than this man and Ronnie and me. I didn’t recognize him as anyone we had ever seen in all our times visiting the orphanage in the last weeks.

Obviously, we didn’t understand what he said. But I watched as the faces of the children changed from wonder to interest, to excitement. Giggles began to escape their little voices.

The double doors to the side of the room flew opened and the orphanage workers entered, wearing Santa hats, and carrying arms filled with shoe boxes!

Yes, those shoeboxes! 

We were there so Lena could get her Samaritan’s Purse shoebox Christmas gift.

Something about watching our own child open a gift that looks like one we would have packed, is both amazing and humbling. Knowing that in a previous year, this likely would have been her only Christmas gift. I will never forget it. Nor do I plan to ever go a year without filling some for other kids. What a blessing that box was on that day. A blessing to the orphanage that could have never provided so many gifts for each child. A blessing for the child to feel seen for a few moments. I saw the difference it made in the weight my daughter was carrying for a few moments. Every child smiled. It is worth it.

Lena’s box came from a girl named Kendall. I don’t know anything else about Kendall, but I will forever be grateful to her for sending gifts across the ocean to a child she will never meet. Her card, written in English, was precious and we all smiled as we read it. Lena immediately gave away about half the things in her box to the small children around her and traded a few things with the other teens in the room. No one held tightly to their gifts. She opened the playdough and handed small handfuls to Josiah and Lydia, and they sat and built things with the other children. Laughter was such a powerful healing force that afternoon in my heart. 

The anxiety melted from all of our faces for those moments, and I just held tightly to the awe.