I can’t get over these children.

This week, after a lot of planning and permissions, the volunteers organized a park day for all but the newborns, or about 25 children in total from the orphanage. It was a chance for the kiddos to get outside, count passing cars, and climb/swing/chase to their hearts’ content. With one volunteer or Tía per baby or toddler, the ratio was finally 1:1, as it rarely is.

 

Of course the street leading to the orphanage should be studded with hearts. I found most of these on my way there last week.

 

I happened to pair with F. She’s one of the “Grandes” I work with most often, though I also feed the “Medianos” and hold the “Bebes.” I know her well by this point, partially from having to watch her like a hawk. She’s the monkey of the bunch, climbing absolutely anything she can–the bookshelf, the chain-link wire outside the window, a stack of toys. With her chubby cheeks and dark hair and eyes, I didn’t look so much unlike her when I was two, but I venture to guess I was far more timid than this future acrobat. F. is vivacious and loud and loving. She’s the little girl who always tries to kiss the heart on the chain I’ve worn around my neck for many months now. Well, last week, when she went to kiss it, the chain broke and we both looked at each other in surprise, her mouth a tiny “o” of shock at her own power. Then we laughed.

 

Spells are usually broken with a kiss, right?

 

I kinda loved that if the necklace’s destiny was to break, it did so at that exact moment. When I told Ryan about it later at home, he said it had to mean something… that this little girl broke the chain, so to speak, for us. Maybe our spell of bad luck was ending. Maybe a new heart was out there to be found.

 

Four hearts.

 

At the park, the whole world seemed out there for F. and the rest of the children to find. We shook hands with leaves and pointed at all the cars. We saw a stray dog and watched the birds. We swung in the swing, which F. absolutely loved. And there, surrounded by such colorful, high, looping, sliding jungle gym equipment, she didn’t want to climb a thing. I suppose it was all too new and mysterious to take in at one go like that. To think, such a place is all of six blocks from where many of these children have lived their entire lives, but may as well be a world away.

 

Two halves.

 

Then, one of the Tías told me the most amazing thing of all: F. was getting adopted the very next day by a new family. She was going to have parents and a home and so, so many park days in store. Just think of how high she could climb! I also think that’s how the chain, the spell, was really broken. Hers was the luck that was turning around. And I was so honored to be the one holding her hand that day as we walked down the street, as she took in the world and I took in her wonder at it. It turned out to be a chance to say goodbye.

 

The heart of the map… a map of the heart.

 

Thanks to the Chain-Link Heart Project, I know it’s only ever a matter of time before new hearts find me and I them. (The hearts save me that way.) But imagine my own shock when I opened a care package from Angie this week and found, of all things, a new heart necklace—a worry locket to lock my worries away. Before I knew it, I had another heart around my neck and another heart link in the chain to share with all of you. As its card explains, “In ancient Greek times, worry beads were carried around to relieve stress and anxiety. The beads were often found objects and strung together to be lovingly counted in meditation. The modern day worry locket is filled with luscious nuggets of genuine healing gemstones or vintage seaglass.”

 

Worries casted away!

 

I wish I could give all of these kids their own locket to trap all that does or will worry them—they have a challenging start to this life. We’re at least going to try to make these park days more of a regular occurrence so the kids can grow accustomed to all that room to run and play, especially while the sun lasts. After all, it’s the first day of fall down here in the Southern Hemisphere. A most happy spring to all y’all up there.