Julius, the One Who Is Left

I cannot let go of Julius. Neither can Terra. He is in my thoughts often. I know he visits Terra as well. There are times throughout the day when Terra will lean against me and whisper his name in my ear and smile. She knows that I love him as much as she does. Well, maybe she loves him a bit more. But we have both been taken by him.

Perhaps it’s because we were there, at Open Arms Orphanage, the day he first arrived. He sat up against the wall, his large brown eyes filled with anxiety, fear, loss. He sat so still, plastered against the wall, watching, listening to all that surrounded him. It was nearing 5:00. The “mothers” had started to gather the toddlers for dinner. One of the mothers scooped him up, gently slid him into a high chair and placed a bowl of porridge on his tray. He sat there quietly, his eyes darting around the room.
And then the dam broke. He began to cry. The flood gates opened. His cries turned to sobs. Terra tried to feed him. She gently rubbed his head. He was unconsolable. He just cried and cried. Another volunteer, an older woman from Holland, picked him up and held him tightly, rocking him back and forth, whispering in his little ear. Oh - we all felt so badly for him.

The matron told us a bit of his story. Both parents are dead. He was being raised by his 12 year old sister. There are no other relatives. The matron pulled his shirt up over his back. Down from his shoulders runs a long set of railroad tracks, a huge scar left from spinal tuberculosis. He was nearly two but not yet walking. Apparently he had spent most of his tiny years in bed. - He was a sorrowful sight.

With a little bit of attention and love, Julius is now thriving at Open Arms Orphanage. Yet I cannot seem to let go of him. Maybe it is because we were there the first day he arrived. Maybe it is because he is exceptionally bright. Everyone comments on how brilliant the little guy is. He is sharp. Maybe it is because we know he has no one who will eventually take him home. Most of the children at Open Arms have some relative who regularly comes to visit them and will eventually take them back to the village. Julius has no one. I don’t know, but Terra and I have been smitten.

The last few times we have been there, he cries when we leave. Our hearts break as we peel his fingers from our necks and push him back inside to stay behind the closed doors. Much to Terra’s disappointment, the idea of adopting him does not seem to make sense to me for many reasons. Yet I have another idea. --- What if we can find a family, a Malawian family from our church over here, a family whom we know, who will adopt and raise him. Perhaps we can be involved some way, maybe offer to help pay school expenses. I have been thinking about this idea for several weeks now and tonight I asked Stephen what he thought of the idea. He embraced it with as much passion as I have. I thank God.