INNER WORLD OF LOST KIDS

Dear community, this time I want to share with you not a typical post, and maybe it's not to the point of FP at all, but I think we all should read it.

We can't know what lost and left kids, orphans, feel, and we can't feel their pain, but this letter of a lost girl shows it perfectly.

There's a contest - All-Russian contest of diaries of foster families, and this letter of 13-year old Maria Afanasyeva has become one of the winners, it has won the greatest attention and love of the jury and society.

I was crying reading it, it really gives a chance to feel how these kids live, and how they get a chance for the second birth in adoptive families.

It's a translation of Maria's letter. I tried to do my best, sorry for possible mistakes:(

"I do not remember anything.
I do not want to remember anything.
I want to forget what sometimes flashes in my head.

I was born just four years old. For a long time I could not understand what was happening to me. A sort of gray veil enveloped and hid my early childhood. A constant sense of helplessness and the constant crying of my little brother. He always wanted to eat. And he cried all the time. This crying haunts me even now.

I look at the sobbing child in the street, and the heart stops. I peer into his face - no, not thin, a cake in the hand. I look at his mother - beautiful, young, well-dressed ... sober! So what are you crying ?! You have everything! So I want to shout to this boy - wait, stop sobbing! You do not even understand how happy you are! Embrace your mother and do not let go! Never let go!

More than anything in the world, I'm afraid of losing my mother. My mother, who gave me the second birth when I was four.

I remember waiting for my biomother and biograndmother in the orphanage. I remember how my grandmother came. She said: "Wait for me," and I never saw her again.

"Good" people said that I was unlikely to be taken to adoprive family ever. Mom drank, grandmother drank, Dad said that I was not his daughter. I would not be taken to a new family either, because I had a sick brother. No one needs sick children.

I immediately understood everything. I did not expect, I knew that noone needed me. If native people didn't not come for me, then I was bad. The worst girl in the world. It was all my fault! I could not calm the ever-crying brother, so we were taken away from the house. I was ready for any punishment.

When you do not expect, you do not hope - it becomes easier. Everything around does not matter. I did not care what I ate, what I drank, what I wore, where they led us, why. I fell asleep, did not even fall asleep - I died. First inside, and then my body, supporting me, did not want to live.

I was ill. But I deserved it. Injections, droppers, pills and silence ... a long, exhausting silence. Suddenly, I heard someone's breath. It became warm and soft. I opened my eyes. Someone was holding me in my arms. Without fuss, somehow slowly, gently, but very hard. Someone was holding me and whispered inaudibly. I can not remember whether it was a song, or a prayer. I quickly closed my eyes. Maybe this is a dream!. No no! do not go! I feel so good now!

This is the moment I remember most often. It was my first meeting with Mummy.

Her son was sick. In the hospital, Misha felt better, he fell asleep. Mom laid him down and, wrapping me in my sweater, rocked me in my arms. I remember her hands stroking my hair and removing them from the face. I remember her smell, I remember the whispering of my cheek. I remember how I was afraid to open my eyes. And then her tears began to fall on me. I remember how I howled ... I did not cry, but howled like a dog. The pain that was inside me broke out... The doctors came running and took me away from my mother. I could not forgive myself that I could not restrain myself, because if I were silent, embraces would last forever.

One morning my mother took me home. I had never been so beautiful. On this day we left the past forever.

In the new life, I had everything. A bed and a table, pillows and toys, a full wardrobe of beautiful clothes and magic books. There were Misha and Lilya. There was not only Vanyusha ...

At first I was afraid to move. I tried to talk less and eat. I wanted to please my mother and father, or at least not to interfere with them. I did not know how to behave.

Everything changed when my mother said that she would never give me back to anyone! Whatever I did. Said that I'm her child, and she's my mother. And this is decided not by us, but by fate.

Vanya appeared in the house quite unexpectedly. I did not recognize him and for a long time did not believe that this is my brother. When I realized whom my mother brought home, horror filled me. I was afraid he would cry, and we would be left by parents again. I begged Vanya to be quiet, did not leave him, so that he would not spoil anything. The brother could walk badly, pulled his foot, and the hand couldn't move. He kept dropping and breaking, and my mother only laughed and embraced him. Then I understood Vanya wouldn't be left by her ever as either.

Any free minute I try to spend with my mother. We sit for hours and chat about this and that.

Mom often rocked me, wrapped like a baby. I love these moments. And even now, when something worries me, I sit down next to my mother, take her by the hand and understand that there is nothing more kinship than this smell, a kind smile, a caring look.

Wherever I am, no matter what I do, I have Mom's eyes in front of me. They can be fun, sad, joyful or anxious, tired or sparkling. And always loving! Mom looks at me with pride or alarm ... but never with indifference or reproach. I try to be like our mother. And we wish all children on earth to see such mother's eyes!

Source:
https://takiedela.ru/2017/11/spasenie-ne-ryadovoy-marii/