I’ve had a very stressful last few days with the flights up in the air. You have no idea the pressure that was put on the Administrator of the House of Angels to take care of me and the children at the same time. Since he has the reliable vehicle, he wants to make sure I am safe and so he insists on driving me himself. This is one thing I absolutely love about the Romanian people.

On my last night I was packing and upset and fretting and Simona made a very late night trip into Gaesti to comfort me and help me. She drove from Bucharest late which is about an hour and a half then had to drive yet another 30 minutes home after that. It was very late when she left. We had already said goodbye to one another three times. I can say honesty and truly that I’ve never had a better or more loving friend in all my life and though we are countries apart we are kindred spirits, understanding why each of us do what we do. I would do anything in the world for her and I feel that she might do the same for me.

Leaving Romania is always hard but this time I was thankful no to be a burden on the already difficult lives of my friends.

I still owe all of you the story of meeting Rachel’s brother but I want to wait until I can emotionally handle that story and do it justice because there is a little surprise at the end.

In the airport when I was leaving I noticed there was a box that was there the very first time in 1998. I stood Maggie in her little wool coat and cap there and took a picture when we were adopting her and on our way home. It was a clear Lucite box where you could drop money in for the orphans. There was little money in there now. It hurt me to think that after all the years, these forgotten children are even more forgotten.

I’ll miss you Cristi and Dorian and all the kids at the Daily Care center. I’ll miss you so much. I’ll miss talking to Radu and watching his magic hands massaging the children and making them strong. I’ll miss little Cristi and his Romanian lisp and his poor little foot that I need to find a sponsor for so we can get him some orthopedic shoes or an exam or something, and the little downs syndrome boy who always waited until his turn, he is so adoptable it is simply a shame. I’ll miss baby Sorina, the one I could have easily made a life with, and I’ll miss the dear sweet cerebral palsy child that constantly giggled and smiled at me, her poor little frail limbs waving in the air. The one that the state nurses are afraid to get out of the bed. These children remind me why I’m doing this, why I started this and why I must maintain the momentum and energy to continue this.

The precious soul inside the child with half a brain really touched me. Do you realize this child should be dead in these circumstances in this country?

My position is hard. People constantly think that things are how they are not. People don’t understand the difference in work and passion and they don’t understand each other’s hearts and other’s lives, especially if they haven’t walked in their shoes or lived their lives. If they did, they would never ever attempt things that would break the other down and crush the spirit. Living even for a few weeks in Romania always teaches me humility and patience and the power of friendship and love. I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on the things that are important to me…and this week God had me strip down my things and throw them in a box. That was hard. If I had to look at those things I’d almost cry that I was having to do that. But you know what? I’m here without those things and I’m not even realizing that. I think this will help me pack for Uganda.

I’ll miss Miss Vicky who has been with us since the first day we opened. I so love seeing her each time. Her art graces the walls of the House of Angels and I’ll also share that with you in another post. I’ll miss my cook. Oh will I ever miss her!! She’s also been with us forever too! I love the cleaning women, I have a sweet story to share about them later. So little time and so many stories.

I’ll miss the crying of the babies, and the sounds of the children wound up every night running the halls. I’ll miss George’s fatherly ways. I’ve not had that in so long since my daddy died. I’ll especially miss his “Guuuuuddd Mooorrrrneeenngg”

I won’t miss those stairs though. All 24 of them.