A Precious Soul

We called him "Kyle".

His only crime was being born with Down Syndrome in a country that doesn't see the value in people with special needs.

For this, he was placed in an orphanage soon after he was born.

In Kyle's home country, Russia, the orphanages are usually run by the government.  The Baby Houses are not usually so bad.  It's certainly no place to grow up, but the children generally appear well cared for... like Kyle did.

But between the ages of 4 and 6 years old, children with special needs are transferred.  Moved out of the baby house... to another place.

An adult mental institution.

Adult.

Imagine that tiny, delicate little boy in an institution for mentally ill adults.

That's where this transformation took place.

Yes, that's the same little boy.

The new picture came a few months after Russia banned adoptions to American citizens, as well as to unmarried mothers in any country which permits marriage equality... essentially destroying any chance "Kyle" and his fellow orphans ever had to find a family.

It shocked us all.

How could they do this to such a precious, vibrant little soul?

Today more news came down.

He died.  Kyle died.

He died alone in a mental institution.

He died without ever knowing the love of a family.

A precious soul, gone from this earth forever.

When I first saw the news today, I immediately started to cry.  But as quickly as the tears came, they were gone, replaced by anger.  Anger at the government which places so little value on the life of a child, simply because he has special needs, that it would sooner allow him to die in an institution than be adopted.  Anger at the political posturing that brought about this adoption ban and erased Kyle's future.

Then came the relief.  Yes, relief.

Remember, a few months ago we learned that this was Kyle's existence:

Abused.  Malnourished.  Neglected.  Sick.  In pain.

What a miserable existence.

Kyle's pain is gone now.  He is finally home.

No, he's not in the home we wanted for him.  He's gone home to be with God instead.  We had hoped he could know the love of an earthly family before that inevitability, but it didn't happen that way.

Nevertheless, he is home now.

No more abuse.  No more hunger pains.  No more banging his head against the bars of his crib just for some sort of stimulation.

Kyle has a new, perfect body in Heaven... no more pain.

That's why the relief.

And that's the feeling I'm going to choose to hold onto.  Gratefulness that God did not allow Kyle to suffer any longer - that He called him home rather than let him endure this Hell on Earth for one more minute.

It shouldn't be this way.  Children aren't supposed to die.  They are supposed to live long, fulfilling lives on Earth before going home to God.

Sometimes there's something we can do.  Pray.  Advocate.  Give.  Adopt.  The things I beg you to do every single day, for children who we can help.

But sometimes... like in Kyle's case... we are woefully helpless.  For the thousands of Russian orphans that still survive on this earth, there is little or nothing that we can do to change their circumstances.

It is in times like these that I pray the hardest.  Jesus, please come quickly.  Your children need you.

(Not So) Happy Birthday

I want you to take a moment to remember your last birthday.

If you can't remember your last birthday, then remember one that sticks in your mind (I know, some of us are getting older and this remembering stuff doesn't go so well anymore).

Here's my last birthday.

Yup.  I was in the hospital.  It was actually my third day in the hospital due to complications following surgery to remove stones from my right kidney.  I was in a lot of pain and on both oral and IV pain medications.  The machine that dripped antibiotics and saline into my veins would start beeping frequently - every time I moved my arm the wrong way.  Notice how I'm holding it out straight there?  I was trying to avoid the beeping, which I would then have to page a nurse to stop... even at 4:00 in the morning.

But then... check out all those presents!  They were wrapped and lovingly loaded into a huge thirty-one bag by my mom, and brought to me at the hospital early that morning.  Even more astonishing, after having been by my side as long as visiting hours would allow the previous two days (leaving the hospital after 9 pm the day before my birthday), she also brought my favorite homemade chocolate caramel cake that she had made after she got home the previous night.  Complete with candles and ice cream.

We shared cake and ice cream with the nurses and the other patients on the ward, as well as their guests.  Other nurses came into my room to join in singing Happy Birthday.

I turned 24 in the hospital.

It was an improvised birthday.

It wasn't the one I had planned.

But I was lucky.  I was blessed with people who were willing to do whatever it took to make it special.



In about five hours, it will be August 23, 2013, in a certain Eastern European country.

What's so significant about that?

Many people would probably say 'nothing'.

But not me.  That day is special to me.

It's someone's birthday.

"Just an orphan" they might say.  "One of thousands."

"An idiot child" they might say.  "Nothing will become of him."

But they're wrong.  Because twelve years ago, God saved this little boy, nicknamed "Brett", from certain death.

You see, Brett was born in a field in the country and immediately abandoned by his birth mother.  Maybe she knew he had down syndrome.  Maybe she didn't.  All the same, she left that little baby there to die.

But a stranger came upon that baby hours later, whose cries had grown weak, who was now hypothermic and covered in bug bites.  That stranger took the baby in his arms and sought help.  Maybe he knew he had down syndrome.  Maybe he didn't.  All the same, that stranger saved Brett's life.

He was taken to the hospital.  The doctors nursed him back to health.  Then, as a child without parental care, and a child with a special need that was not widely accepted by the citizens of that country, there was no place for him to go but the orphanage.

Brett spent three years in the orphanage.  In his country, after a child's third birthday, if they remain an orphan, they are to be sent to an older child orphanage, or to a mental institution.  Brett drew the short straw.  He was sent to a mental institution.  From what we know, it is a very rural one, probably lacking in resources, most definitely unseen by many outside eyes.

That is where he was when this picture was taken for his adoptable child profile - the picture that sat on Reece's Rainbow for years.

That is the picture I saw a year and a half ago... and fell in love with.  I could just see those little arms reaching up for a hug.

But years passed.  Birthdays passed.  We finally got an updated photo... one that is not horrifying as some we have seen, but that made me sad all the same, to know that the sweet little boy in the photo had to do all that growing up without a mommy or a daddy.  This is Brett today.

And on August 23, 2013, he will be twelve years old.

But there won't be cake or candles.  There won't be assorted gift wrapped packages.  There won't be a mommy to pack up a birthday in a bag and bring it to the institution where Brett currently resides.

It will just be another day.  Another orphan who is another year older.  No one to care.

Even in a hospital bed, in tremendous pain, I had a better birthday than Brett has ever had.

Let that sink in for a minute.

Imagine, as a child, spending your birthday with no cake, no presents... not even someone who loved you.

It's not fair.

And there's only one way to change it.

Mommy, Daddy, this little boy is crying out for your love and attention.  Please don't look the other way.  Don't be afraid because Brett is 'older'.  He is mentally still a small child.  He is friendly.  It is said by those who have met him that he is not aggressive and would likely do very well in a family.

He just needs to be given a chance.

If I could adopt him myself, I'd have done it already.  By the rules of both my country and his, I am too young.

For those of us who know we cannot personally adopt him, we at least could offer Brett a birthday present... maybe a little donation to his Reece's Rainbow FSP, to help the family that does step up to adopt him?  That can be done here.

But this is not the case for all of you.  Some of you have the power to rescue Brett.  The requirements to adopt from his country are very do-able, as international adoptions go:

• 2 trips, 5 days each
• Approx cost only $19-25k!  (depends on how many people travel, time of year for travel, etc)
• NO UPPER AGE LIMIT
• Single mothers may apply
• Easy dossier, very few restrictions
• Only one parent has to travel

CANADIAN FAMILIES WELCOME!

Please, won't you help me make sure he never has to spend another birthday in that stark, cold institution?

Remember... EVERYONE can do SOMETHING.

Pray... Share... Advocate... Give... Adopt... SAVE A LIFE.

Nobody's Child

I wish I could command inspiration to strike me when I needed it, but I can't.

I wish I could conjure up the most eloquent blog post ever right now, but I can't.

I'm actually pretty preoccupied by my health tonight, and I didn't really want to write a blog post.

But then it occurred to me.

While I sit in my warm bed in my warm house, not wanting to type on my laptop...

...a little boy sits, and maybe he's cold, having nothing that's really his own... not wanting to be an orphan.

And I owe it to him to write this post.

Around a year and a half ago, for some reason and without ever intending to, I fell in love with this little boy.

Back then, he looked more like this:

I don't know what it was about him.  Maybe his picture.  Maybe his story.  But I think, mostly God.

That little boy is Brett, and he lives in a mental institution in Eastern Europe, because he was abandoned at birth because he has down syndrome.

And when I say abandoned at birth... I mean it quite literally.  Most of the children in orphanages or institutions were born in hospitals or at home and surrendered from there directly to the orphanage.  Not Brett.  Immediately after giving birth, Brett's birth mother left him to lie in a field.  He became hypothermic and unresponsive, went into shock.  When a stranger came upon him and took him to the hospital, he was covered in bug bites.

Brett very nearly didn't make it through his first day on this earth.  If that stranger hadn't come upon him, for whatever reason, by whatever twist of fate... he would have died, a nameless baby who belonged to no one.

But that didn't happen.  He was saved.  Saved... and then taken to a hospital... and then to an orphanage.  At three years old, he was transferred from the orphanage to an adult mental institution.  Adult.  Three years old.

Saved... but for what kind of life?

This is the question I ask myself every day - and it can only have one answer.  Brett's story isn't over - not yet.  He was saved that day, on August 23, 2001 (yes, I have his birthday memorized), for something greater than the life he's living now... and all he needs to get there... is you.

You.

Yes, YOU.

If you've been waiting for a sign, this is it.  Brett needs YOU.

He's eleven years old now, still waiting in that mental institution, legally free and available for adoption and listed with Reece's Ranbow with a grant over $2,500 to aid with his adoption.  I can personally promise to help raise the rest of the money required for the family who adopts him.  His country is really a great one to adopt from - easy travel, inexpensive, very stable program, Hague country, I've heard nothing but good about the facilitators and agency staff.

What are you waiting for?

Recently, one of the adoption facilitators traveled to Brett's institution.  The report came back that he has some nonverbal communication skills, is extremely flexible (typical for kids with DS), and would likely do very well in a family and is not aggressive (something that has been seen in many institutionalized children).  Brett also has alopecia, which is why he lost his hair.  No big deal.  I shaved mine for him on New Year's this year!  There are all sorts of fun things to do with a bald head.  And this little detail of his appearance... should absolutely NOT be what stops him from having the family he deserves.  From my own limited experience with institutionalized children, I suspect he would be a wonderful and loving son.  Others with more experience seem to concur.  More pictures and videos of Brett are available from the agency.

There are two possible outcomes for Brett.  Only two.  He doesn't have the limitless opportunities we have in this country.

The first one, the one I want for him, is a happy ending.  A family.  A mom and dad, or maybe just a mom, to say YES to Brett... where others have said no.

Lately, there have been a string of older boys (the most at-risk group of orphans) appearing on the My Family Found Me page at Reece's Rainbow.  And every time a new one shows up, I rejoice for him, but my heart says, "Why not Brett?"  Fifteen year olds, aging out in a matter of days, have had the adoption community rally around them and been adopted just in time.  Teenagers, on the cusp of being fully grown adults.  By comparison, Brett isn't 'older'.  He's eleven.  I remember eleven.  We traded pokemon cards, danced to music, played dress up in our parents' clothes, loved board games, had sleepovers.  Brett is still a child.  And he has Down Syndrome.  His developmental 'age' is likely much lower.  He's just a little boy... in the body of an eleven year old.  So I ask again... Why not Brett?  Why, never Brett?  Why is he not one that people rally behind?  Because he doesn't come from the 'right' institution?  Because no adopting families have met him?  None of these things are his fault!  No more obstacles than have been overcome in previous cases.  

He's just another little boy, locked away in a place he doesn't belong... probably very rural, from what we know, which is likely to increase his hardship, especially during the winter.  Heat and food can be hard to come by in rural areas without reliable routes of transportation for all seasons... so while you're celebrating Christmas, instead of celebrating with you, eyes lighting up brighter than the Christmas tree, he's probably cold, and hungry.

'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.'   ...whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’

If Christ our Lord was sitting in that institution... would you not save him?  

But He is.

He is in every one of us... especially the least of these.

Which group are you in?  Those who do, or those who don't?

Because, the second possible outcome of Brett's life is unimaginable.  I don't need a long paragraph to describe it.  He will spend the rest of his life in a mental institution with sub-par care, until one day, he dies there.  He will rock, chew his hands, bite his tongue, stare at blank walls, shiver, maybe starve... and then he will die.  He'll be buried in an unmarked grave, or maybe a grave marked only with a wooden stick and a number.  Again, nameless, and again, belonging to nobody... the same way he started out.

That is not the life he was saved for.  I refuse to believe it.  That can't be his future.  Not after all the obstacles he's overcome already.  Brett is a fighter - in a good way, of course - but there's only so much he can do for himself in his position.  Right now, he needs you... to help him fight... to get him out... to save him from fading away as alone as he started out.


They say that a picture is worth a thousand words, so let me allow the pictures to illustrate the stark contrast between these two futures.

Here's the one he can have if you say YES to him.

And here's the one he'll have if you turn away.

I've been pleading for Brett since the day I saw his picture.  Like the day the stranger came upon him in that field, I believe it was fate that I saw him.  But I can't adopt him.  I'm too young for his country's requirements and I always will be.  The law requires parent and child to be at least 15 years apart in age.  I've posted his picture everywhere.  I've written countless blog posts for him.  I've done fundraisers for him.  I shaved my head for one of them!  Since that day a year and a half ago, his grant has grown by over $2,500 (although certainly not by my own hand).  But I can't save him.  Not alone.

I'm a realistic person.  I know not everyone can or should adopt... but I also know that people do, every day... and sometimes they choose older boys, just like Brett.  Why not him?  And if you're in that group, like me, who couldn't adopt him no matter how hard they tried, that doesn't mean you can't do anything!  Brett needs two things.  He needs money in his Reece's Rainbow account, to help the family who commits to him. You can donate to him here.  But more than anything, he needs to be seen.  So I beg you to share this blog post... far and wide.  If you never do anything I ask again, please, please do this.  Just this would be enough. And if not for me... do it for the abandoned little boy in the field, cold and alone and covered in bug bites.  Or do it for God.  Just do it... please.  This is our chance to get Brett seen... before it becomes an aging out emergency.

Donate.  Share.  Pray.  Adopt.

Be one of those who gives to the least of these... not one of those who turns away.

Please.  I'm begging you.  Don't turn away.  Don't let him stay the way he is right now... nobody's child.

Other blog posts about Brett:

• http://callmecrazycbus.blogspot.com/search/label/Brett
• http://crazy-arewethereyet.blogspot.com/search/label/Brett

Inquire about Brett at www.reecesrainbow.org.  

Reality

I almost don't know how to put this into words.

Perhaps these will not be the right words, but I can't be silent any more than I could be silent when I first discovered the plight of orphans over a year ago.

Today I want to talk to you about something truly heartbreaking... something most of us in this country can't imagine.  

In this country, services are available to people with special needs.  Therapies.  Specialist doctors.  Adaptive equipment.  Public facilities are required to be accessible to people with every type of limitation.  Government assistance is available to aid families in obtaining the sometimes expensive treatment these children and adults require.  It is not always an easy system to access - playing phone tag, ferrying loved ones to and from appointments, arguing with officials... but it is something... though not perfect, the best system we've got.

In this country, if you receive a prenatal diagnosis that your child may have special needs, you have enough options to overwhelm you.  Sadly, most parents who receive a prenatal diagnosis like down syndrome choose abortion.  90%, in fact.  All those families that will never know the good that comes along with what at first seems like a bleak diagnosis.  For those parents who choose life for their child, or those parents who do not find out that their child has special needs until birth, there are yet more options.  Did you know that there is a waiting list of families who want to adopt a child with down syndrome?  And should you choose to parent your child, there are hospitals, special needs schools, equipment, therapies, all those things I referred to above, to help you and your child.

I know that it is still scary for most people to receive a prenatal diagnosis, or to find out after giving birth that their child has special needs.  You mourn the loss of the life you imagined for your child.  Regardless of what services and options are available, it is not what you expected... it is a great unknown, and we all fear the unknown.  I don't want to take away from the struggle families face in this country when they receive such news.  But I do want to open your eyes to another sort of struggle... one that we can't even imagine because the days of 'decisions' like this are, for the most part, long gone in this country.

Across the world in Eastern Europe, prenatal diagnoses are uncommon and many expectant mothers lack the resources to get proper prenatal care.  They spend nine months expecting and preparing for a baby... just like families in this country do... getting everything ready to bring their little one home.  They give birth, and sometimes, that is when their worlds fall apart.  That is when special needs, such as down syndrome or cerebral palsy or spina bifida are discovered.  That is when, in the face of mourning the life they expected for their child just as parents in this country do, they face an even more terrifying decision.

Because, in most of these countries, there is no social support system in place for families with children with special needs.  No therapies, no adaptive equipment, no government assistance, frequently not even physical accessibility!  Imagine giving birth to a child who may never walk when you live in a one bedroom, fifth floor apartment, accessible only by flight after flight of stairs, with no means to move elsewhere?  Imagine knowing that you must raise this child - do everything - on your own.  Imagine knowing that where you live, it is not a common thing to parent a child with special needs, and you would likely be shunned by society and even by your own friends and family.  Imagine knowing that if you struggle financially, which you will likely do without any social support systems to aid you in raising your child, you are on your own - left to ruin.

Doctors and nurses tell mothers of these special children that they cannot raise them, that the children will be better off in an institution with other children 'like that'.  They make families believe that the life their children will have in an institution will be better than any life they could possibly provide for their own child, when nothing could be further from the truth.  Parents in vulnerable emotional states are pushed to make life-altering decisions in the blink of an eye.  Often, they trust the doctors - they are doctors, after all... they must know what is best for a child 'like this'.  They give up their children.  They go home empty-handed, to a home prepared for a child who will never live there... and their children... they go to institutions which do little more than warehouse the mentally and physically disabled.

I could talk for hours on what conditions are like in these institutions, but I have done this before.  Right now I want to focus on those parents... the ones who had to make that heartwrenching decision... the ones who thought, who hoped they were doing the right thing for their child.  Most of them did not give up the child because they rejected him or her for having special needs... they are parents too, who love their children... parents who give them up in hopes of giving them a better life, or who are pressured and feel they have no option other than giving their children up.  It is the hardest thing most of them will ever do.  I place no blame upon the parent who chooses what she thinks, with the information she has, is the best option for her child and her family.  My heart aches for her... for her empty arms and her broken spirit.

Many of us ask, "If these parents love their children, why do they never visit them?"  Well, it is not simply that easy.  Often children are taken to institutions far from where their families live.  Travel is difficult and expensive, if not impossible.  Parents, who may have other children to provide for, have to work hard to make ends meet.  And even if we remove the logistical constraints, can you imagine going to visit the child that you gave up in hopes that he would have a better life... and seeing him like this?

...and not being able to do anything about it?

For many parents, it is just too painful.


They still want the best for their children.  Many of them hope that their children will be adopted internationally, taken to a place with greater resources where their needs will be met and they can grow up in a family.  In certain Eastern European countries, Reece's Rainbow is known by many birth parents, who, after making the heartbreaking decision to give up their child, beg for them to be listed on 'the rainbow' - so that a Canadian or American family might adopt them and give them the life that parent has always wanted for her child.  Some of them ask about their children after they are adopted.  Some of them even have contact with the families who adopt their children (this is generally at the discretion of the adoptive family, but I have seen it happen and I can only imagine how it must both soothe and wrench a mother's heart to see her child thriving in a family she could not provide).

Imagine going through the heartbreak of giving a child up, not knowing where she is or if she's being taken care of, and then finding out that she has, in fact, been adopted and is receiving not only the therapy and assistance she needs, but the love of a family.

My friends, adoption is redemption.  Of the child, this, we know.  We have seen children redeemed by adoption over and over.  But it is redemption for the broken-hearted families who give them up too.  It is the happy ending they dreamed of for their child... the one they couldn't provide... the one they were imagining when they made the devastating decision to give up their child.  It is a million times better than not knowing... or knowing the horrible truth.

Someday I hope and pray that there will be support in place for these families to keep their children.  I actively support organizations dedicated to this cause.  Until then though, we do the best we can with the system we have... and one thing is for sure.  Adoption is redemption.

For the video that inspired this blog post, please go here.  I know many of you will not watch it... because once you see, you can't un-see... but perhaps seeing is the push that we need to do something.

Please.  I'm begging you.  Do something.

Because this could so easily be the reality for people we all know and love.

Waiting

When my eyes were opened to the plight of special needs children around the world, I was 22 years old.  22 years and 8 months, precisely.  To be approved in the U.S. for international adoption, you must be at least 25, or married (I'm not).  Can you imagine how much that drove me crazy, having the will to go, but not being able to?  I pleaded for time to pass quickly... I counted the months... When I turned 23, I celebrated not because it was my birthday, but because I was just a little tangibly closer to that goal.

I'll be 24 in April.  14 months now, between me and 25.  I've come to realize that I may not be ready to adopt right at my 25th birthday - I'm still working on personal and financial stability and while I think I can come a  long way in the next year, perhaps not quite all the way... which is frustrating, but it's still my goal to adopt as soon as I can, and to meet that goal, I'm trying to get those things in order as quickly as I can.

I know what country I'd like to adopt from - it fits my needs perfectly.  I know I would like to adopt a child with down syndrome.  I know what I need to do to raise money.  I'm prepared to fill out the mounds of paperwork.  I just can't yet.

But days like today, it's hard to wait even another second.

Days when you see pictures like this:

Jocelyn

Jocelyn is six years old.  Look at her tiny wrists, the socks that barely stay on her feet... tiny girl.  Then look at her belly under her clothes... and for a minute... you might be deceived.  You might think, maybe she's not as desperately malnourished as you might think... but she is.  A certain type of malnutrition (kwashikor) causes a distended abdomen in its victims.  It's not because they have meat on their bones.  They don't.  It's because they are so terribly starved to have developed this dangerous condition.  This little girl needs a Mama, and a good doctor, ASAP.


What I wouldn't give to be able to go get her.  But I can't.

Can you?

And she's not the only one, either.  Look at them... all these children waiting, and only ONE obstacle that I can't overcome out of sheer will and determination, stands between me and them.

Micah

Marnie

Andrue

Madden

Kolya

Millie

And then there are all the ones I can't adopt... because the country requires a certain age difference between parent and child... like my sweet Brett...

But then I think - oh, this waiting is so hard for me...

...but imagine how hard it must be for them.

While I'm waiting, I'm sitting in a warm house, under an electric blanket, drinking Dr. Pepper, eating delicious pastries and listening to music.  Typing away at my laptop, the entire world at my fingertips.  While I'm waiting, I'm working at a job I love and that fulfills me.  I'm spending time with my family and friends.  I'm going outside, enjoying the sunshine, or staying inside and enjoying a bit of hibernation.  While I'm waiting, even when I get sick (like I did this past week), there are whole stores full of medicines I can buy to make me feel better - friends who are dictionaries of herbal remedies - a family who loves me and takes care of me - a warm bed to curl into until I feel better.

While they're waiting, they're lying in a cold crib, or bed, or wherever they've been plopped that day, or plopped themselves, if they can walk.  Lucky if they have a blanket at all.  Drinking thin soup or thick gray mush from a grated bottle.  Eating the same - maybe some bread soaked in water, if they're lucky.  Toys are scarce and it's survival of the fittest, so when you're small, or weak, or just not aggressive, there's not much to occupy your time.  They're rocking.  Biting their hands, grinding their teeth, pounding their heads against the bars of their cribs.  Staring at the same surroundings every single day, in and out... for years.  When they get sick, they are isolated, and the mind-numbing boredom combined with pain becomes absolutely excruciating.  "Feeling better" is not even a concept that applies to them... how can you feel better when hunger is gnawing at your stomach 24/7, every day of your life?

And I only have to wait 14 months.  The YOUNGEST of these children has been waiting nearly two years already - and the adoption process will likely take another year.  And dear Brett... who sadly, I can never adopt, unless his country's laws change (which is doubtful - and I don't want him to wait that long anyways)... he has been living that reality for ELEVEN LONG YEARS.  YEARS.  YEARS of what I just described to you.  No one to love on him.  No one to call Mama.

Just thinking about the waiting they face... makes my wait all the harder.  Because I'm a fixer, and I want to fix that for them.  But I can't right now... not even for one of them.  That breaks my heart.

What about you?  Are you waiting too?  Waiting on what?  Is it insurmountable... or is it... maybe, time to stop waiting and start fighting?

Did you see your child here today?

What about here?

Going Back for More

Back when my other blog was my only blog, I'm sure I shared this picture with you:

This is Keith.  Well.  That was Keith.  You might remember that he was in a bad place.  A place where no child should be.  A place where, at four years old, he weighed only 12 pounds.  A place where he was alone all the time, lying unstimulated in a crib.

Then my friend Amanda Unroe said 'Yes' to Keith... and to four other children in the same country.  Yes, you read that right.  Amanda, who admits she's probably not entirely sane (but in the best way), brought five children with down syndrome home at once.  And she did it like a rockstar too.  Keith and his brother and sisters have been home for six months now.  Look at that little twelve pound 'baby' now...

Check out all that hair, the little bit of chub on his hand... the light that shines in him... having a family has brought him to life!  He escaped that place where no child should be, and now he gets to be part of one of the most amazing families I know.  The Unroes currently have eighteen children, and they love and treasure every single one of them.  In fact, Amanda may be the most fun mom ever - she lets them have indoor snowball fights!  When I heard that, I volunteered to be adopted next!

I think it's safe to say that these five 'orphans no more' have a lot of happy memories ahead of them...

The first of many *adorable* Christmases in a family!

But, my friend Amanda, as you can probably guess, loves kids.  Imagine a person like her going into the place Keith was, the sort of place you don't even want to imagine one child in, and knowing - seeing - that there are hundreds of them there.  A few of them have families coming for them... but what of the others?  Imagine coming home, seeing this beautiful child come to life, and then seeing more children who have suffered far too much for their short lives listed for adoption... and no one stepping forward for them.  Imagine knowing that for the ones you brought home, there are dozens more left behind.

Someone like Amanda experiences that and thinks 'I have more love to give.'  Bringing home children doesn't divide the love - it multiplies it.

So she committed to three more children in a terrible place.  Three more children who desperately need to come home... less than six months after getting home with these five.  And by the way, I have no doubt she's going to absolutely rock it with three more too.  The first year I did Vacation Bible School, there were 31 kids in my class, and myself and two other teachers.  I was fourteen.  I remember my mom saying to me that night, "Crazy, huh?" and I replied "I like this kind of crazy.  It works well for me."  That's the kind of person Amanda is.  Even though most of us can't imagine how we'd handle 21 kids, she handles 18 like a rockstar, and she'll do the same when the other three are home.  Everybody has rough days, sure, but for the most part, it sounds like a lot of fun to live in that house!

Meet the kids who will join the Unroe family this year.

"Presley" will be named Charity.

"Carson" will be named Johnathan.

"Thad" will be named Matthew.

Do you want to guess how old they are?  I'll bet you'd never have guessed that Keith was four in that first picture, five now, would you?  How about these little ones?

Charity is three.  She has autism.

Johnathan is six.  He has hydrocephalus, treated with a shunt.

Matthew is nine.  He suffered a severe brain injury from abuse by his birth parents.  He has been neglected so severely that he weighs only 18 pounds and his legs are contracted at the knee.  He needs to come home yesterday.

The family is currently working to update their homestudy, working on the dossier (paperwork) that needs to be sent to the kids' country and translated for their government, and filing paperwork with Reece's Rainbow to be eligible for the Family Sponsorship Program (FSP).  Once that paperwork is done you will be able to make tax deductible donations to them through Reece's Rainbow.  For now though, funds are still desperately needed.  They have a number of auctions and buy-it-now sales going on continuously on facebook, are participating in programs that will share portions of the proceeds with their adoption fund, and knowing Amanda, will be having any number of other fundraisers until these three finally touch American soil.  But right now, the biggest obstacle for them is money.  Every next step takes money.  Agency fees, getting documents in order to send to the government, filing them, paying the homestudy agency, I don't think I could accurately list everything if I tried, having never adopted myself, but since they went through this process already last year, they know what they're doing and have gotten everything together as fast as they could - and a lot of it is done - but now they need the money to move forward.

Look at him.  He is nine years old.  Matthew desperately needs the kind of love and care a family provide - the kind that transformed Keith from a crib-bound infant to a busy toddler on the verge of walking independently.

Money cannot be what stands between this little boy - or his brother and sister - and the care they need and deserve.  There is no time to waste.  They've waited years.  They shouldn't have to wait one more day than absolutely necessary.

Many of us have tax refunds coming this time of year.  I think I know where the Unroes' is going.  Lots of people plan vacations or buy themselves shiny new things with their tax refunds, and that's fine - you earned that money, you deserve it - but could you spare just a little bit to help bring these kids home?  $20, out of the whole amount?  Would that be too much to ask?  Too little, perhaps?  If I spent my money the way I really wanted to, they and a few other families would be getting my whole paychecks and I'd be living on chicken nuggets indefinitely.  Most of you know that I only just got a full time job - what I made last year was independent and won't earn me a refund.  Nevertheless, I'll pledge $20 from my next paycheck to the Unroes.  Would you be willing to match me?  And if you can't afford $20, how about $10?  Would you give up pizza night this week to help bring Matthew and the others home?  How about $5?  From what I understand, that's about one cup of coffee at Starbucks.  Brew your coffee at home one day, please, and help me bless this family?  You won't regret being a part of making a difference in the lives of these kids and indeed, their entire beautiful family.

Donations can be made via paypal to unroerescare@yahoo.com, or on their blog linked below.  There is a "Chip-In" on the upper right hand side of the blog where you can donate - Chip-In is down while I'm writing this so you can use the paypal address as an alternative, but the Chip-In should be back up soon.

And if you want to learn more about my friend's amazing family, please check out their blog (full of cute pictures too!).  A mutual friend, Michelle (who is adopting Carolina and could also use both prayers and funds - we are trying to arrange a local benefit for their adoption as they live relatively near me, so if anyone local can help us find a place to do that I would love to hear from you!) also wrote a beautiful post about them this week that you can read here.  In fact, please do read it.  She writes much more eloquently than I do... and she can tell you more about Matthew's story.

Friends... I know we're not all called to adopt.  I know we're not all called to have 21 kids.  We're not even all called to write blogs and fundraise for orphans.  But we're all commanded to CARE for orphans.  Here is a family who has done wonderful things (all but one of their children are adopted, by the way), and you have the chance to help them, to be a part of that.  I'm blessed to have been even a small part of it.  Don't let another day go by missing out on that.  Match my pledge... or exceed it... or just give what you can... say a prayer... offer an encouraging word on their blog... do anything except nothing.

 

They're counting on you.

Heartbreak

There is no other word to describe how I feel right now.

Heartbreak.

I'm sitting here sobbing as I write this, for the little boy who I could not love more if he were my own flesh and blood.

I know you all remember Brett - one of the boys I've been screaming for for months.  Maybe you can even call his face to mind, remember the one picture I've posted of him, the only picture I ever had... this one.

Maybe you remember his story... born in the open country and abandoned in a field by his mother, before he was found and taken to the hospital... and from there to the orphanage.  Other than that we had so very little information about him.  No one had been to his institution.  No one had met him.  He was hidden away... precious buried treasure.


Today, this picture was posted to his profile with an update.  Someone has seen him, met him, been to where he is, heard his story, and taken new photos and video of him.

This is Brett today.

My boy.  My sweet boy!  Oh, how my heart absolutely breaks, to see what years of institutionalization have done to him.

Yes, he's still beautiful.  Precious.  I want to take his little hand in mine.  I want to fold him into a big hug, the kind mommies and aunts and families give.

What we knew before about his history was sad.  What we know now is absolutely heartwrenching.  There are just no words.  Read his new description from Reece's Rainbow:

"Brett was born premature at home and taken to an open field, where he was abandoned. He was there for 6 hours before being rescued and taken to a local hospital, where he was treated for shock, hypothermia, bug bites all over his body and difficulty breathing. Once released from the hospital, he was placed in an orphanage and later transferred to a mental institution, where he lives today.  From a physical standpoint, he suffered several bouts of bronchitis and other sicknesses as a young child. He does have alopecia (hair loss), but does not have any other health problems at this time. Based on one of the video clips, it appears that Brett is able to pop his hip out of socket, as his can turn his leg at an unnatural angle.   He can walk and move freely around in his environment. 

Brett suffers from many delays as a result of spending over 10 years in an institutionalized setting.   He walks, plays with toys, communicates using gestures and interact with adults at will. He is NOT aggressive.   The staff cares for all his basic needs and he is not receiving any academic instruction or any noted therapies at this time. 

Several photos and videos of Brett from December 2012 are available."

Poor sweet boy!  He was freezing, struggling for survival, covered in bug bites!  He was left, all alone, defenseless, and even when he was 'rescued', he only had spending the rest of his life in an institution to look forward to!  Oh, sweet boy, how you deserve to know the love of a family.

And now... now he's not even in an orphanage.  He's in a mental institution.  For adults.  If the orphanages in Eastern Europe are bad, the mental institutions are filled with untold horror.  Mogilino, the place featured in Bulgaria's Abandoned Children was a mental institution.  The place my friend's sweet, loving, beautiful 8 year old son came from, where he regressed from the skills he learned in the orphanage and boarding school, was a mental institution.  The place the men lived, young and old, with nothing but the clothes on their backs - not even an old TV to watch in a day room.

Brett DOES NOT BELONG in a mental institution.  He needs out. 

I'm begging for him.  Please, someone.  Take a leap of faith and say yes to Brett.  His country is a wonderful one to adopt from.  Easy travel, no upper age limit for parents, single moms are allowed, large families are welcome, relatively relaxed requirements, a well established adoption protocol (it is a Hague country)... and the costs for adopting from his country are relatively modest - and he already has $1,700 in his Reece's Rainbow grant!  In addition, I promise that whomever commits to him will have the full support of myself and a few other advocates - and when I say that, I mean I will move mountains.  If you think I'm crazy for shaving for Angel Tree, just wait until you see what I'd do to get this boy home.  I'll move across the country and be your live in nanny, for free.  I'll travel with you if you want.  I'll put on fundraiser after fundraiser after fundraiser to get you funded.  Seriously.  I love this boy.  I would go get him myself if I could.

In the past people have shied away from older boys like him because they are afraid they will be aggressive or have behaviors that are 'too difficult' to deal with.  From the new description, we know that Brett is NOT aggressive and it sounds like he would do absolutely wonderful in a family.  Some therapy, lots of love, and I can see him being the kind of amazing blessing my friend's son, who was adopted this year at 8 years old, is today (and he's only been home for four months!)

Look at him again.  Are you looking at your son?

Please see his full profile and inquire here at Reece's Rainbow.

Losing the Other Eyebrow... and Being Down to the Wire

I'd have had this up sooner if I hadn't slept for the larger part of the last 24 hours, but alas, here it is - I am now an eyebrowless woman!

Thanks to Sevenly, Brett (one of 'my' boys), received $1,000 in his grant account late on Christmas day.  When added to what had already been raised for him during Angel Tree, it amounted to $1,607.30!  Hooray, Brett!

Elden's grant has been sitting at a pretty steady $529.50 for a few days - and I have been racking my brain trying to think of ways to raise it, but for the most part coming up empty handed - and some complications I will mention later in this post are not helping either.

Regardless, the boys are now WELL over a combined $1,500 - actually at a combined $2,136.80!  However - since Elden is still not over the $1,000 wall yet, thus not at HIS goal, this only means one less eyebrow for this girl... in another $470.50, I get to shave my head!

But without further adieu, let me share the final de-eyebrowing with you all.

Here's a picture taken before, me and my one-eyebrowed glory:

And then here's me after The Shaving, no eyebrows left to speak of:

Yes.  It is weird.

Now for the HAIR!  Come on guys, we are so close and we only have five days left to raise that money!  Let's complete the effect and baldify me!  Once bald, I'm going to order cards from Vistaprint explaining why I'm bald with a link to Reece's Rainbow - so that every time someone asks, I'm spreading awareness!

Actually, that has started already.  Eyebrows aren't usually enough for perfect strangers to ask what happened, but I did get to have an excellent conversation with some family members about orphans and Reece's Rainbow at family Christmas (which I attended one-eyebrowed).

Today, after posting the second eyebrow shaving video (will be seen below), I received two 'follows' on you tube and a private message informing me that I'm crazy, but for a good cause!  Why yes, that's the point!

I've never been happier to have no eyebrows.

Wait.  Pretty sure I've never done this before.

Now, here's some fun - the video of the second eyebrow's disappearance.  In case you're noticing the theme here, yes, I am wearing footie pajamas again, only leopard this time.  That's right.  I have the most epic footie pajama collection in the world.  Be.  Jealous.  ;)

Let me remind you all that WHEN the final money is raised and Elden is over his goal, the head shaving will be videotaped as well.  I promise hilarity.



Now, despite the mostly upbeat and fun nature of this post, I'm feeling compelled to share something a little more serious with you all tonight.  If you keep up with international news, you might know that the Russian parliament has passed an act that would ban all adoptions by U.S. citizens.  The only obstacle left between this legislation and a legal decree that would essentially be a death sentence to many, many orphans, is President Putin, who can either sign or veto it.  He has hinted at support for the legislation, even though it will have serious ramifications not only for the children, but for the Russian economy and US/Russian relations, as there is currently a treaty allowing such adoptions in place which this legislation would essentially be breaking.

For those of us who advocate for adoption, this whole thing is terrifying.  Russia is a big country, obviously, and it has literally thousands upon thousands of orphans and not enough families to adopt them.  Thousands are adopted by US families every year.  Some of our dear sweet Reece's Rainbow babes - indeed, some of our Angel Tree babes - are in Russia - though I can't tell you which ones for their protection - and if this passes... well, think of what could happen to them!

Some of you might recall the post I wrote earlier this year about transfer.  About how children are often transferred to adult mental institutions between the ages of 4 and 6.  About how few special needs children survive this transfer, and how bleak their future is even if they do - unless they are adopted.   Entire lives spent behind the walls of an institution.  Do me a favor, go check out my other blog, the post about mental health in America, and imagine sending a five year old with down syndrome to live in a place like that - no - ten, twenty times WORSE than that - for the rest of his life.

Yes, there are other countries, but the vast majority of Russian children who are internationally adopted are adopted by American families.  Without adoption to save them, how many more will be forced to live out their lives in bleak, horrible places?  Even if the legislation were later revoked, it would be too late for many of them.

It is because of this that I ask you to pray.  Pray with everything you have that something will soften Putin's heart and cause him to deny this legislation.  Only God can intervene now.  Share the plight of these children.  Ask your friends to pray.  Do not allow governments to use children as pawns in their political agendas without being held accountable for their actions.

It is also because of this that I again beg you to donate.  Again, I can't tell you which children are in Russia, or which ones will be available to Canadian families even if the legislation passes, but those children are going to need our help even more.  International adoption is even more costly in Canada than it is in the US.  Awareness will need to be spread.  Comfortable grants will need to be available for children to encourage families to take a leap of faith.  And since I can't discuss exactly where kids are, if this moves you to donate, donate to any child.  Many of them are in Russia.  Many of them are not, and they need funding too.  You can do no harm by giving to a child who has nothing.

Might I suggest a certain little boy with down syndrome, whose advocate wants to go bald just like he will?

Donate to Elden here.  

Please help me get him over $1,000.  Please.  I don't really have anything to offer (except, you know, my amusing hair removal on video), but if I'm feeling discouraged right now I can only imagine how he would feel if he were transferred to one of those awful institutions - and he will be six in February - it is a very real danger.  Together we can do this.

After the next $100 is raised, I'll post again with a little surprise... ;)

Eyebrowlessness

That's a fun word.  Even though it's not a word.  It's still fun.  I have a habit of inventing words, you know (see other blog) :P

So, I have been sans eyebrow since Monday night.

I've only been out of the house once.  I went to McDonald's last night.  I didn't even remember my lack of eyebrow until I was home and looking at angel tree.  No one said anything.  LOL.

Elden's grant is currently at $529.50 raised during Angel Tree.

Brett's grant is currently at $577.30 raised during Angel Tree.

So in total the boys have $1,106.80.  When $393.20 more is raised, and they are at a total of at least $1,500, I get to shave the other eyebrow and be symmetrical again!

I miss symmetry.  I was always fond of it.



I must confess, I've been feeling a little guilty that more of the things I wanted to do for Angel Tree never came to fruition.  I really feel like I haven't done anything but beg, yell and holler, and I meant to do so much more.  This has just been such a complicated and difficult year that there never seemed to be time or money to get much of anything started.  A friend commented one day that she felt like her Angel Tree child got the 'short straw' because she didn't feel she had much to offer as his Christmas Warrior, and I have to admit that this thought has entered my head more than a few times lately.  Yes, Elden is over the $500 wall, which is wonderful, but it was all you guys.  All your generosity, your kindness, your love for him and the other kids just like him.

We have just under another $500 left to raise by New Year's.  I wish I could say I'd been sitting on some sort of fabulous fundraiser all this time, but I have nothing that I can get off the ground quickly enough to make a difference in Angel Tree, so I suppose, as I've done up until this point, I'll continue to beg, plead, and cry out on his behalf.  Over the next year I'm planning to do a lot of legwork on some other fundraising ideas I had so that the kids can still benefit from them - but it would really make my year to see Elden reach his $1,000 goal by New Year's, and he's already over halfway there thanks to you generous people.  I'm at a loss.  If there is anything I can do for you, anything you can think of, please let me know, obviously I'm willing to go to pretty much any extreme for these little guys, but this fundraising thing doesn't exactly come with an instruction manual, and it being the holiday season during a tough economic climate is certainly no help.

I want to say too that I know there are a lot of other Christmas Warriors out there in the same boat.  If you feel a pull to support them and their 'angels', please don't hesitate to do so.  There are a lot of kids on the angel tree, and ultimately the Reece's Rainbow community wants to see them ALL meet their goals.



That in mind, I want to share another unique opportunity (which I had nothing to do with, but nevertheless benefits Brett, one of 'my' boys) that you should ALL get in on in the next four days.

An organization called Sevenly has chosen Reece's Rainbow as this week's charity to support.  This organization designs awesome clothing and each week, the profits go toward a different charity.  From now until December 24, that charity is Reece's Rainbow!  As each $1,000 is raised through the shirt sales, another RR child has $1,000 added to their grant.  The 15th child on the list is 'our' Brett!  Already, $11,522 has been raised - in three days!  Isn't that amazing?  But our ultimate goal is $25,000 and we want to get ALL THE WAY there.

There is no down side to this opportunity.  The Sevenly shirts are *awesome*.  Check these out for yourself or someone in your life - the style of these is meant to appeal to teens, young adults, and the young at heart - as well as those of us who just LOVE Reece's Rainbow.

This is just one of the beautiful designs - you can see the rest at sevenly.org!  Orders will not arrive by the 25th, but these are perfect as a late Christmas gift, a birthday gift for the upcoming year, or just a random act of awesomeness (kindness is to mild a word - getting someone an awesome gift AND helping orphans with special needs?  That's just pure awesome).

Because we are trying to reach out beyond the existing Reece's Rainbow/Down Syndrome community, please share the sevenly link with your friends and family - everyone can love these awesome designs!  This is a fun and unique opportunity and we want to make the most of it.



So here ends my longish mish-mash of thoughts, which I thought was going to just be a couple of sentences and a picture to update my blog, but apparently, in case you haven't caught on yet, I'm long-winded and it turned into much more ;)  Please keep Reece's Rainbow and Elden and Brett in your thoughts and prayers this holiday!

TRANSFER is a Four Letter Word

In many parts of Eastern Europe, parents who give birth to children with special needs, lacking the social support systems we have built up in this country, feel unable to care for their children, and sometimes before even leaving the hospital, surrender them to the care of orphanages, or 'baby houses'.  They believe their children will have better lives there.  They will be able to get the medical care they need, that their parents can't afford.  They may have a chance at being adopted by a family who can care for those needs.  They can live out their lives with other people 'like them'... where someone is paid to care for them.

According to society in these countries, it's the right thing to do.  Bringing home a disabled child and trying to raise him/her by yourself is nearly unheard of.  And so, in droves, babies are delivered from hospitals or parents arms to baby houses, where they lie in cribs in rooms full of other children in the same predicament.  Most of the time, the parents who gave birth to these babies never see them again.

This... becomes home.

Some baby houses do their very best to take care of children and nurture them, albeit on very limited resources.

Some baby houses are in between.  They have very little for the children to 'play' with, so they are left to self stimulate... reach out for anything interesting or different.

Some... are downright criminal.

Katie was nine years old when this was taken in the baby house for children 0-3.

But... did you catch that I didn't call them 'orphanages' but maybe once?  I called them 'baby houses'.  Why?  The answer is simple.  They are for babies.  Orphaned babies.  Babies with special needs.

What of children?  Orphaned children?  Children with special needs?

They don't just disappear after they're surrendered to the baby house.  Not unless they die, which they do.  The age varies by region, but a child is eventually transferred OUT of the baby house... be it a good one or a bad one.  Usually, children are between four and six years old at the age of transfer.  Hardly babies... but still very small and vulnerable.  Here in America, our children have Thomas the Train birthday cakes and candles to blow out.  In Eastern Europe, their birthday gift is transfer.

So... where do they transfer them to?  They have baby houses... surely child houses come next, right?  Children's homes.

Sometimes.  If they're lucky.

But special needs children?  No, their futures are almost always much darker.  There will be no 'children's home' for them.  They are still transferred... but to an adult mental institution.

TRANSFER.

If you're an orphan advocate or an adoptive family, it's one of the ugliest words you've ever seen.  Your stomach drops when you see it on a child's profile... like it is on these ones... only a few of many profiles that read similarly.

Marla

Girl, Born March 2007

FACING IMMINENT TRANSFER!!!

Poor sweet Marla……….she was born with severe CP.   She has a loving personality, but is completely immobile on her own.  She is facing transfer soon and will remain bedridden the rest of her life if she is not adopted  (

From her medical records:   Congenital malformation of the CNS: microcephaly, spastic tetraparesis.   Can not walk.   Does not speak. 

Married couples only, older parents and large families welcome, travel required.   More photos available. 

$2232.93 is available towards the cost of my adoption!

Sophia

Girl, born April 2008
Eyes: Gray
Hair: Black
Nature: Passive

Diagnosis: Down syndrome

What a blessing, an updated photo!!   She looks so much better, but she is facing transfer this year.   Please, let’s find Sophia a family!

$1497.00 is available towards the cost of my adoption, including $1.00 from Angel Tree donations!

Arthur

Boy, born July 2008
Nature: Quiet
Diagnosis: Down syndrome

So glad to have new photos of Arthur, he is growing up so fast!   Arthur is 4 years old and is facing transfer to the institution.

$5310.50 is available towards the cost of my adoption,including $310.50 from Angel Tree donations!

Look at Arthur.  Look at the toys behind him, the joy on his face.  He's still in his baby house.  But it's right there in plain english... 'facing transfer'.  

What happens when Arthur is transferred?  What happens when four, five, six year old children with disabilities are sent to adult mental institutions?

In my mind, Ksenia is the face of transfer.  If you haven't already... meet Ksenia.  The little girl whose face is seared into my mind forever, the little girl whose photos I don't need to look at to remember the tragedy.

Ksenia before transfer

Ksenia after transfer

Yes.  That is the same little girl.  

THIS... is what TRANSFER means.

Take a look at some of the other faces of transfer.  Ksenia is not alone.  Her case is not an isolated incident.

SONNY

NATHAN

And that's it for before/after pictures tonight.  Then there are these kids... who knows what they looked like, how full of life they might have been before they were transferred?

Hope is 15

Irina is 8

Victoria is 7

Zulfira is 7

TRANSFER.

It is the greatest tragedy of their already traumatic lives.

And it is inevitable.

Unless they are adopted.

Take a look again at Ksenia, Zulfira, Victoria, Irina, Sonny.  They are all in the same country as my precious angel tree boy, Elden.  This one.

Look at the joy on his face, the light in his eyes, the way he shakes his rattles with enthusiasm.  Elden is clearly in a baby house that does its best to take care of the children.  He has been lucky, thus far.  

But Elden is five.  He will turn six in February.  The upper age limit at which children in his country are usually transferred.  

If he is not adopted, Elden will be transferred.  The tragedy that happened to Zulfira, Ksenia, Irina, Sonny, all the others... will become his tragedy too.  The joy will disappear from his face.  The light will go out in his eyes.  His sweet chunky little legs will thin out until they are skin and bone.  

I can't tell you how much this thought breaks my heart.

We can't let this happen.  Not to this little boy who is so full of joy and life.

We don't just need to raise money for Elden this Christmas - we need to find his family.  Before it's too late.  This may be Elden's last chance.

Families are intimidated by the costs and requirements of his region, but more and more successful adoptions are occurring there.  I have encouraging information specifically about some of the children in region 14, including Elden, who are lucky enough to have some of the most dedicated and serious advocates I have ever encountered.  If you are considering that this little boy might just be your son... would you please e-mail me to talk about him at Callmecrazycbus@hotmail.com?  I would love to tell you more about him and his region.

And if you're not in a position to adopt right now, that's okay.  But you can still help.  Click the button on the right hand side of my blog.  Make a donation, buy Elden's Angel Tree ornament and hang him on your tree and keep him in prayer in this season of giving... if you can't afford the ornament (I am his warrior and I am having to save for it) then ANY donation will help... just a few dollars, if you can spare them.  I don't want anyone to go without food or warmth or comfort to give - but when I look at what we have, and then at what they have... I can't help but think surely there's something I could give up to help.  

And even if you literally don't have a single penny in your posession (trust me, this is a situation I am not a stranger to!)... please share Elden.  His most important need is a family!  Yes, we want to raise his grant, we want to get him over $1,000 for Angel Tree (and watch me lose some hair, which I promise to be amusing), but he could have all the money in the world and it won't mean a thing until a family comes for him. Share him.  Share this post.  Share this blog.  Tell everyone you know.  Tell them what TRANSFER means. 

And please... please, don't let it happen to this joyful, vibrant little boy.