Henry's Day

Court was yet another Ukrainian experience. We’re waiting in this crowded hallway where women in tight clothes and stilettos pass by about every 30 seconds. They unlock doors, go in, close the doors and come back out just a minute or so later & lock the door. We’re sitting in these seats that are wooden and built together (so you share an arm rest) in a row of about six seats. They seating unit itself is not bolted to the floor so it nearly falls over when you push the seat down to sit down or when someone else gets up. Down a few steps from where we are sitting is a set of glass doors to a “junk room”. Nothing about the scene is anything even remotely American.

We’re invited to pass through one of the “doors” and we’re in our court room. It’s a room about 12’ by 20’. At one end, behind a desk sits an elderly gentleman who is the judge and there is a court recorder. And it smells like, you guessed it, cigarette smoke (and a window is propped open with a 2x4 – as if it made any difference).

The other people present are a juror (Why? In a civil case? I have no idea but she took notes the entire time and never said a word – except for “congratulations” [in English!] at the end), the social worker from the orphanage and the inspector from the local authorities (both of whom we have previously met), our facilitator (who also served as our translator – yes, the whole thing is in Russian), and a prosecutor whose job it is to represent the rights and interest of the child (although I am certain he has never met “the child”).  Speaking of the child, he is not present. And for this, we are grateful. It is becoming increasingly clear to us that our son is a very sensitive little guy and we were concerned that him having to endure court would not be best for him.

So the judge establishes the reason for being there and then asks us why we are there. Of course, this is the same as the reason we are there. Maybe there was something lost in translation but basically, what we are expected to say is that we request the court grant us permission to adopt Valeriy, to change his name to Henry Valeriy Sapienza, and a few other things.

The judge talks/reads pretty fast from our dossier & application (ok, *really* fast) and there is a time for each of the people present to talk. While anyone else is talking the prosecutor is looking out the window & answering his phone. And the social workers & inspector are smiling the entire time (the social worker, who is in my line of sight, frequently exchanges glances with me & smiles – especially during the part where the judge is reading about Valeriy signing his approval and wish that we adopt him). In less than 30 minutes everyone who is required to do so recommends that the adoption be approved and the inspector does not object (the inspector…um, asked only enough questions to be able to say he did his job – thanks, dude! We appreciate that!). So we all (except the juror, recorder, & judge) are dismissed to wait in the hallway (where women in tight clothes & stilettos pass in & out of different doors) while they come to a conclusion. While we’re standing in the hallway we ask our facilitator what they do while we wait. He said “they smoke (and we know he is not kidding) & make phone calls (of which we are not the subject)”. He assures us there is nothing about which to be concerned. Shortly thereafter we were called back in and he was right. At 12:59 the court ruled in favor of our adoption! The decree will be final in 10 days.

After grabbing some lunch & taking care of a little more business, we head to orphanage to visit with Henry who is decked out in his “court outfit” that we bought him (size 7-slim was a perfect fit!) and he looks very proud! His director came in an talked (really fast too) about how wonderful Valeriy’s life will be with his new family and she wishes us many, many blessings.

I wish I could say our visit with our new son was as successful as the court hearing. It’s complicated. Our having left to go to Nastya’ orphanage took a toll on the small amount of trust we had been able to build with him. It is understandable given his history but it was what we had to do. So, we have some repair work to do with him. Also, there’s the language thing…. It is very hard. We talked to our facilitator about this and he confirmed what we thought. Until we get him home, it will be hard (especially considering that we are leaving again soon for a few days). Our relationship will not likely be very deep. We feel like Nastya will be a huge help in this regard when he sees how we relate to her.

So that was our day! Yes, it’s Good Friday but I consider it “Sonday”. This, the day our Heaven Father sacrificed His only earthly son, is also the day we were permitted to adopt our very first son. Feels like grace like rain………