The last few days have been a roller coaster of highs and lows. Kajal is sweet and funny, loving and kind and then, snaps. Usually it starts out with a simple refusal of something I've asked her to do... like not walk down the street without me and it builds into her screaming NO in my face or trying to hit/kick me. I get firm and tell her she can't behave like that and she shuts down, cries and go's to the place of 'me bad', the shame.

Today started out normal enough, laughing together as we wake up, singing our 'good morning to you' song, breakfast and getting dressed. There was a moment when I asked Kajal to brush her teeth. She looked at her little pink miss kitty toothbrush and then looked at me, with a tired look on her face.  'Me use hand' she asked and pointed to her hand. I was confused and she pointed to the toothpaste then back to her hand 'like in India' she said. She seemed so tired and I realized she just wanted for one small moment, in one simple way do something familiar. It reminded me how everything, absolutely everything was different to her. I nodded yes and she squeezed the toothpaste into her hand and used her finger to brush her teeth. She was happy and we headed off to school.

I picked up a few small presents for her. She's been feeling such self hatred lately, been so down on herself I wanted to find some way to make her feel better, brighten her spirits. I found a small rope red bracelet with the word 'love' on it. It seemed perfect timing because last night she came home from school with her first homework assignment of 'words'. I have never been so excited to see, cat, hat, mat, bat and at. Who would have thought such simple words could bring such joy. We spelled them out together and she practiced reading them, then we would jump up and down, clapping and laughing at her success in learning. I have written the word 'love' to her on cards and showed it to her in books. She's knows the word, perhaps if she sees it on her wrist all the time, it will remind her that her mommy loves her. I also printed off some pictures from India... of other children at the orphanage and Kajal on the day I picked her up, the day we became a family. She's been mentioning one boy 'Moukesh' that seemed to be a friend. She's told me of the teacher that used to beat the children and called them by numbers instead of names, she was the Marathi version of 3, Moukesh, was one. I put the pictures in a little pink album thinking that she could carry it with her and if she felt sad, or was missing these friends from her past year she could comfort herself with the pictures.

After I picked Kajal up from school, I gave her the album and tied the bracelet on her hand. 'Can you read this word, Kajal?' I asked her, and she spelled it out 'L - O - V - E' and she smiled, 'Mommy loves me'. I told her that when she wore it she could always remember that I loved her 'big' spreading my arms to show her and, she smiled. Kajal then looked at the album. She looked for her friend Moukesh but couldn't find him. She pointed out teeny windows in a cement wall... "me look out here mommy' she said. Then she pointed out a woman in one photo 'she bad, she hits' and so on, her comments were made. She wasn't happy, or sad. She pointed out the woman who told her to dress quickly, her Mommy was coming today to take her home. And she smiled as she recounted this.

As bedtime came, I read her a few stories and we laughed and talked about the day, with what words we could. Then she said to me... "Mommy, be me" how I asked her "Mommy, be me, be bad, be crying" I realized this would be an opportunity to reverse our roles and perhaps learn a little something (and boy could I use learning) I said okay, then slipped in to 'Kajal' role. 'No, Mommy, No' I play yelled at her, then switched from saying No over and over to pretending to cry and have a tantrum. Kajal blew in my face gently (something I do when she's having a tantrum' I slowed down my fake tears and looked in her eyes and said 'me bad, mommy, me bad'. Kajal put both her hands on my face and using my own words said 'no, kajal, you good... I love you, Kajal, I love you' then she scattered little kisses all over my face. My heart about burst right there. To hear her immediately reject the fact that she was bad, to call herself good... to resonate the words I say to her over and over and wonder some times if she really hears and feels the love I'm sending her way.... this gave me so much hope, for her, for both of us.

She must have been feeling so safe and secure, for as Kajal grew more sleepy... she started talking. With what words she could use, she told me of things that have happened to her, the harm that was done.

I've read horror stories... I've read about sick people... hurting children. I wondered how such evil could exist in the world. Now I hold my child as she recounts some of the horrors that she has survived. She was so peaceful as she shared with me , what she could. So brave. I told her that I was proud of her, that I loved her... over and over again, I reassured her of my love and I told her that I would not let anyone hurt her again. She asked to go to the doctor (this child who has practically disassociates with complete terror when she has to be examined by a doctor) how incredibly brave and courageous she was. In this moment, gazing into her six year old face, her precious, innocent six year old face... I felt the weight of the world I saw in her eyes. I kept whispering how happy I was that she trusted me, that she could share with me a piece of her recent past... that she could share her hurt with me.  I put her head on my chest and wrapped my arms around her, and she fell asleep. More peacefully than she has in the three months since she's been home. So peacefully.

I held her like this for a while, then carried her to my bed. I thought of all she's been through and wonder at all that I still don't know, may never know. I do know this child has survived nightmares that no child should have to endure and my heart hurts for her. I sit her quietly now, writing and the weight of the sadness I feel for her is so much larger than I could ever have imagined feeling. In the sadness though, the loves prevails... the hope and the gratitude that love and God brought us together. That of all the world, all the children, He has entrusted me with this precious one. To protect, to help heal. She is truly mine. I could not love her more if I had given birth to her. This love, it is all encompassing and in this moment, the sadness I feel for her is more profound than... anything.