Taegen 8 years later--a beautiful young lady.

By Marie Browning LaPlant

It was a bitter cold day that Christmas Eve in 1994. The snow was swirling outside in circles of white dust halos then flying off in sheets against the wind.

I had been staring out the window for the last twenty minutes, fighting back the fear I had growing within me that I would never be able to make my little girl happy. Not this Christmas, and maybe not ever.

OK, so maybe I was a little dramatic; after all, Taegan had only been home for a few weeks. But, the days seemed an eternity for me. I had long planned and prayed for her adoption for months.

Taegan was five years old and had spent all her years in an orphanage in China, where long, winding canals wrapped around the building where she and one hundred other children called their home.

Although Taegan was only five, she came to me defiantly self-sufficient. In the few weeks that she had been home, she had not slept through the night once.

Taegan cried out for hours for comfort, but would not receive any from me. My arms around her were met with icy stares and harsh spoken words in Chinese that I am sure had to be profanity.

I had prepared for her arrival with a newly decorated bedroom. The soft, white down comforter on a new plush double bed was for the many nights I had hoped we could snuggle together and read story after story.

I expected Taegan would be happy with new clothes, books, and toys. She was, however, not impressed with anything. She never had anything, and she never missed anything. Taegan did not know what to do with a toy.

She walked stiffly around the house, like a little tin soldier, with her head down. She expected nothing from people and attempted to take care of all her needs.

I was shocked to see this 26 lb child wash her own clothes with a bar of soap and fold her bed sheets to a perfect 8x10 square, no wrinkles.

     She made and stirred her own congee and ate it with her face in the bowl, not daring to look up, lest someone might steal it from her. Each night I would watch her take food from our cupboards and store it carefully under her bed when she thought no one was looking.

As I stared out the window, during that cold, uncertain period of my life, I prayed, as I never had before that surely God knew the plan He had for Taegan.

I cried out for patience, and for a divine leading on how to get into her heart. As surely as she denied needing me, I knew God had placed her in our family and I loved her despite her rejection of me.

We were expected at a small dinner party that Christmas Eve at the home of close friends. Already the anxiety was building in me, how Taegan would react to another group of strangers. She seemed both hostile and vulnerable at the same time.

As soon as we arrived at our friends’ home, after settling down to a warm fireplace, and conversation, it became apparent that Taegan had found a friend. Grandma Joy, the mother of our close friend, had a nurturing heart; as long as she had someone to care for, she was happy. Her own children and grandchildren were grown and it had been years since she felt the neediness of a young child.

Grandma Joy was a small, quiet, woman, being aptly named. She personified sweetness like the sparkling sugar laced on the Christmas plums set before us.

Her touch was gentle and tender, so willing to reach out to show affection. Her words, although not understood by Taegan, were soft and sweet, and had the tone of love, which broke through any translation barrier.

In the corner of the room filled with strangers, I watched as Taegan, like a ship lost at sea, was drawn to this one woman like a lighthouse, as if Taegan intuitively knew Grandma Joy was placed there just for her. I watched in awe as my daughter climbed onto this strange woman’s lap and laid her little head against the soft cashmere of Grandma Joy’s sweater. The peacefulness that came over my little daughters’ face was something I had never seen before.

Grandma Joy caringly stroked Taegan’s crudely chopped hair, and whispered angel songs into her ear. Soon, in an exhausted state, from weeks of broken sleep, Taegan fell fast asleep. In the room which held strange people, lights, sounds and smells, all foreign and fearful to Taegan, she at last had found a safe haven.

What had Grandma Joy done, that I hadn’t tried to do myself? I was relieved that Taegan had allowed herself to be comforted, but how I wished it could have been I who gave her that comfort.

In my heart I knew, for whatever reason, Grandma Joy was the one who broke through the ice. It didn’t matter, in the long scheme of things who was the first to receive Taegan’s love. The fact that Taegan could love back was all the reason I needed to celebrate.

Each day thereafter, bloomed a little more of the special girl I had called my own. Taegan and Grandma Joy are soul mates. If ever there be two more alike on this earth, it is they. The grandmother whose sole purpose in being was to give love, and the little orphan girl who so desperately needed to receive that love. And somehow, through the confusion and trauma of that time, on that cold Christmas Eve seven years ago, they found each other and love broke through.