Home - a Short Story About Adoption

Have you ever marveled at the beauty of a painting or photograph and wondered what might have been happening at that very moment? The moment the image was caught in time? The instant the illustrator found that perfect image in her minds eye and translated it onto paper? I have often found myself looking at old photographs and wondering what could have brought such a sad look to a face or such a beautiful smile. Who is it the eye is twinkling for? I am a daydreamer. I create stories in my head, imagining things that might go wrong or right . Imagining things as they could have been or should have been. Creating fantastical past lives and carefree futures in my mind. I am a worrier, and I have a need to be creative. To release some of the imagined things from my mind, my heart. To set these imaged people and places free or to rid myself of past demons.

Recently I joined the blog Monday's Child and have enjoyed viewing and reading fantastic poems and stories written by some fabulously talented bloggers. Each Monday a new children's illustration is posted as a prompt to give the participants imagination a jumpstart. This is my story prompted by the illustrator Jessie Wilcox Smith titled "Little Drops of Water". Ms Smith was a successful children's book illustrator. Read about Ms. Smith here on wikipedia. But first enjoy my little story I have titled Home:

I marveled at the wonder of this child I had so prayed for. The little girl to call my own that I was finally taking home. As I gazed upon her standing there fearless before the oceans waves I went over the days events in my mind. She had insisted on wearing her favorite pink dress. I had added the big floppy bow to her golden hair, the color of Kansas wheat, to pull it back off her sun kissed face. I watched her standing there holding her pretty dress up so as not to get it wet and lifting handfuls of sand allowing it to sift through her fingers. I thought of how she had said goodbye back at the orphanage. She had bid farewell to each and every one of her friends, her teachers and the counselors. There were many tear filled eyes. She had hugged each tightly and smiled brightly as if to console them. Outside she said goodbye to the big heavy door. She ran into the yard and greeted each palm tree and twirled around while looking up and bid farewell to the birds and the blue sky. Inside the car as I buckled her into her seat she shyly asked, "Are we going home?" "Yes my sweet", I replied, "We are going home".

As we pulled out of the drive I looked in the rear mirror at the orphanage and then down to the seat and my heart leaped with the realization that this was it, she was finally mine. At first she was quiet as we drove along until suddenly she became animated. "Wait, stop, stop", she cried out. "I must say good bye to my beach". We were passing her favorite play spot; the place where I had first laid eyes on this precious child playing in the waves. I remembered her fist words to me; "I'm a mermaid. Are you a mermaid too?" As I began to pull over little April was already out of her seat belt and had her shoes and socks off even before I came to a complete stop. Before I could get to her she had bolted out the door and was running toward the waves. "April, April" I shouted, "wait for mommy". Mommy!!! The word I had longed to hear I was shouting out to this beautiful child God had led me to find just a year earlier while on vacation. Tears filled my eyes as joy filled my heart. I continued to watch as little April held her dress up and grabbed handfuls of sand allowing it to sift gently through her fingers. I collected myself and walked closer to her. "What are you doing my sweet?" I asked. "What game are you playing now?" "Oh no mommy", she replied. "I'm not playing a game. I'm saying good bye to every grain of sand."

As we left the beach and headed towards Kansas I knew our trip would only be for a visit. I knew this because I knew we were already home.

Copyrighted: Teresa Mahieu
August, 2010