Photos and Deeds

More and more frequently I am asked to look for photos of children at the orphanage.  I have done this in the past, for families that have been matched to their children, or families that have recently returned home, and have found me on the internet.

I am a little skittish about my notoriety in Bengbu.  I primarily blog in order to provide feedback to the donor families, and try to bolster my reputation in order encourage more people to work together with me, or with any charity organization, in order to help the orphan children of Bengbu. I often repeat how long I have been visiting Bengbu, and I am proud to have photos to prove this to people looking to trust me with their donations.  However, many people look to me as a resource for old photos of their children, which is not my intention.  But having 2 adopted daughters of my own, I understand these requests.   I empathize with the guilt an adoptive parent feels over not being able to answer the unanswerable questions of my child's beginning.  In the early years, it seems our children are only concerned with walking, talking, staying up past their bedtime, or conniving an extra popsicle out of me.  But many of us dread the moment when our children will  look to us for Answers that we cannot provide about their early years.

 Let me come back to that thought in a minute.

A week ago, our youngest daughter graduated from elementary school.  Readers who are my age will not fault me for failing to conceal my chuckle as I type the phrase "graduated from elementary school".  In my day, the greatest memory of the end of 5th grade was the bell ringing at 3pm, all my homework papers being thrown in the trash, and me and my best friend racing home in order to watch as much television as we possibly could until our eyes rotted out of our heads.  

  But I was thoroughly astounded (again, as our oldest daughter had also gone through this event 2 years earlier) by the pagentry of her graduation ceremony.  There was a piano player deftly playing "pomp and circumstance" (we only had a RECORDING of this playing on the loudspeakers at my HIGH SCHOOL graduation!).  There were eloquent and touching speeches made by talented 5th grade writers.  There were awards, a choir performance, and a short year-in-review videos shown.  I was floored.  It was definitely more organized and the students were much more well behaved than at my high school graduation.

  Afterwards, the students and teachers gathered outside, snapping photos in their best Sunday clothes.  Grandmothers, school staff, friends, siblings, and parents were all busy joining arms, and putting on big smiles for the cameras.  Most people had their big 35mm cameras, that looked more expensive than my car.

  I, on the other hand, had my little Sam's Club $159 Canon 10 megapixel camera with 8x zoom.  I had not taken it out of the case since I had it with me in China.  I caught my daughter out the corner of my eye as she was darting towards one of her friends.  Calling out to her, she beckoned me to come to her to take a picture with her BFF.  The crowd in between me and my two subjects scooted out of the way so I could get a clear shot.  Apologizing to the bystanders for the inconvenience,  the girls held arms and smiled.  The flash went off, and they let loose of their smiles, and resumed talking with their other friends.  A moment later, my mother grabbed my arm and said with glee, "oh, I want a picture with my girls!".  I rounded up my girls, and gathered them in with grandma, and again the crowd graciously parted for us as they lined up.  The moment was captured as they all smiled while saying "cheese!".

  My daughter came up to me, and gave me a strong, lingering hug.  She knows me, and I know she meant it as a true gesture, not as just an obligatory "thank you". All my worries and distractions were whisked away, as I felt the universe gift me with the feeling of happiness that is above any other.  I was in the depths of the best smile of the day when she whispered "thanks, Dad".

  The euphoria was still washing over me as she left me to join her friends, and my mother came beside me and said, "how did they turn out?"

 I pushed play on the digital camera, and scrolled through the photos.  Smiling faces appeared on the tiny square screen.  Tiny beeps emitted as the images flew by.  Smiles, hugs, and children.  

  "Who are THEY?" my mother pointed to the screen and asked.

  I looked at the screen and saw smiles and little children, but they weren't from the graduation.  

  They were the children of Bengbu.  

  And even though I was scrolling through those images, I was thinking about all the photos I have taken over the years.  

  I thought about the pictures in which the children smiled at me....FOR me... years earlier.   

  I also remembered these photos as I scanned my hard drive a few weeks ago looking for photos of a child recently adopted.  I found the child, and then found the child again over the course of 10 years of photographs of children from Bengbu orphanage.

  For 10 years I have taken photos of smiling children.  I thought about what Answers lie in those photographs.

  I think about what it must be like to be a parent of a child that you can't be with.  What would it be like if I only had a few photographs from time to time of a posed smile, or of my child in a costume, or a grainy video.  

Would these images ever compare to a strong, lingering hug?  Would it ever compare to being there for their first steps, their first tooth, being able to comfort them when they were sick, or have them whisper "thank you, Dad"?

  My mother could not understand why, at that moment at graduation, I became very sad, and tears appeared on my cheek.  I realize that all the photos of my children, all staged and smiling back at the lens, are just the reminders of the really IMPORTANT parts of our lives, which are every other moment THAN those photos.  

  And with each smiling face I have of the children of Bengbu, I am reminded of how much I have not done, and how much more I want and need to do.

  In the process of our passion and our love, we have made a difference for the children of Bengbu.  But we can, and NEED to do more.  And I know the parents of these children, along with me, look forward to spending more time with the loves and passion of our lives, and not just with their photos.

Some photos below of Bengbu over the years.  FYI, the beauty at the bottom has been found by her forever family.