by Marie LaPlant

The air in the plane was stuffy and stale. I had been flying for 17 hours and soon I would land in China, where I would adopt our newest daughter. I expected it might be difficult for this little girl to leave the orphanage. She lived there for five years. Even though I had wonderful plans of bringing her into our family, I knew she would be leaving behind all that she ever knew.

I learned that my daughter, Taegan came from an orphanage that held approximately one hundred children, mostly girls. Young women, known as caretakers run the orphanage. The children call them “Ayi’s” which respectfully mean “Aunties.”

During the six months that I waited for Taegan, I learned several things about her. Taegan had a major set back emotionally six months before when an American woman had gone to China to adopt her. After all the papers were signed, the woman changed her mind, and left the country without the child. Although Taegan was not yet five years old, this was devastating for her. Taegan had come close to having a new mama, the caretakers had built up for her all their hopes and dreams of what being adopted into an American family would give her. Her dreams of having a new mama were shattered. I heard from the families that were present during that sad time that Taegan wore the same little dress that the American woman had left her with for days after.

This meant Taegan would have to be sent back to the orphanage alone. She had hoped to be adopted, at the same time as her little friend, Joel, who was seven. It seemed too much to have to say good-bye to him as well. It was a long, silent drive back to the orphanage where she would now face her daily living without Joel, who was her constant sidekick.

The caretakers embraced her dearly with new vigor. She was one of theirs, and how dare anyone get this child’s hopes up and then leave her. As much as they loved Taegan, they also loved her enough to let her go. They wished for a family for her to call her own.

At the same time, the seven families who witnessed this heartbreaking scene of Taegan returning back to the orphanage came home with determination to find this child a family. Some took videos of her; others donated funds to make it easier for the new family to bring her home.

In China, in the weeks following this disappointment, the local village heard of this account and took pictures of the little girl under the caption on the front page which read “They are all our children.”

Taegan became everyone’s child. I knew when I first heard about her story that she was my child. I sent her presents and letters every month before I actually came to get her. Her caretakers were especially convinced that this time, the adoption would go through.

After I arrived in China and met Taegan, I was captivated by her beauty. And her sweet spirit showed itself clearly. Taegan was shy and had twirled herself into the skirt of her favorite caretaker, Qui. It was quite obvious that Qui loved my daughter very much. “How will they part?” I wondered.

I had no idea that Taegan had this close bond with this young woman. I learned they had known each other for five years. I could see the sorrow written across the young woman’s face. She was small boned, and painfully thin. Her long black hair, like thin strands of silk blew over her beautiful face. When Qui smiled down at Taegan, the sun broke through. When Qui looked over at the bus, which would take Taegan and I away from the orphanage, her chin would quiver.

Qui knew all too well what lay ahead for Taegan, should the child remain in China. Qui understood how wonderful it would be for Taegan to have a happy childhood with privileges a family of her own could give her. At the age of 27, Qui herself had grown up in the very same orphanage.  Like Taegan, she was an abandoned baby girl, left at a police station in the city. During those years, adoptions were not open in China, and no one ever came for Qui.

I allowed Qui and Taegan to spend the last remaining moments at the orphanage alone in a corner. I silently prayed for God to fill the ache in each of their hearts and that in the years to come, they might once again reunite and share their separate journeys where life had taken them. I waited by the bus, as the other adoptive parents carried babies into their seats. The parents were thrilled with their chubby faced infants and the little ones were squealing back with delight. Everyone was unaware that in the corner, inside the orphanage my little girl was saying goodbye to the only person who had ever loved her like a mother.

The two walked out slowly, toward the bus, hand in hand. Taegan looked up at Qui, and then to me, she reached out her hand for me to take it, as if to say, “Qui trusts you, I will trust you too.”  Every emotion I had went through me at that point. "Yes, I wanted to shout, I will be your mother, I will take care of your every need. I will give you a good life. Wait till you see DisneyWorld!"

Qui had been weeping softly, allowing her tears to fall into a soft, faded, cotton handkerchief. When Qui neared the bus, she knelt on one knee and held Taegan tightly. She whispered in Taegan’s ear and Taegan stood straight and brave like a soldier, minding her caretaker to the last command. Qui wiped the tears remaining on Taegan’s face with her handkerchief, kissed her forehead and said; “Now our tears are joined together forever.” As we turned to get on the bus, Qui gave Taegan her handkerchief. Taegan clutched it to her chest, as though it were a piece of Qui’s heart.

The bus began its engine as we slowly drove away down the rocky, unpaved road, leaving behind a trail of smoke and dust. Taegan pressed her little cheek to the window to catch the last lingering look of her beloved caretakers’ face. Taegan waved until her little arm could no longer hold itself up and Qui had long since vanished from view.

We still had a few more days to spend in China, before we would head to America and Taegan’s new home. Taegan never let go of the handkerchief. It took several weeks for Taegan to come out of her shell, but she did, and we found her to be the joy the caretakers had told us she was.

Several months after Taegan had been home, with the handkerchief still under her pillow, she spotted some new pretty handkerchiefs in a department store and asked if she might buy some for Qui Ayi.  The original handkerchief is lovingly preserved in a shadow box frame on the wall of Taegan’s bedroom.  It has become a yearly adventure of Taegan sending Qui handkerchiefs and Qui mailing some back to Taegan.

Taegan began collecting handkerchiefs from that point forward. Family members who visit other countries and friends knowing about her collection have helped to make Taegan’s handkerchief collection grow to over 100 delicate, unusual pieces of material. It is an odd collection for a child, but not for Taegan. It means more than a collection to her I think. It is her tie to Qui, the first person she ever loved.