Tag Archives: Ana

For the people the people of the revolution, Twitter changes everything.

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Image by elhamalawy

Last week we witnessed a historic event as the president of Egypt, who had been in power for 30 years, was forced out of office as a result of 17 days of protests by the Egyptian people. In some ways this revolution reminds me of the revolution that took place in El Salvador 30 years ago. Both were trying to free themselves from oppressive regimes. Both were lead by youth who were sick of the status quo and wanted change.

To me there is one striking difference between the two revolutions. That is the role technology had in enabling the revolution. During the past couple weeks, people have debated about the importance of the internet to the revolution in Egypt. Some say the that the revolution could not have happened without Twitter or Facebook. Others say revolutions are about people and that is more important than what tools they use . I want to share my thoughts about the role of technology in this revolution.

Gladwell is half right

One of the most prominent people against the importance of “social media” during the revolution has been Malcolm Gladwell.

From Gladwell’s piece on social media:

“The kind of activism associated with social media isn’t like this at all. The platforms of social media are built around weak ties. Twitter is a way of following (or being followed by) people you may never have met. Facebook is a tool for efficiently managing your acquaintances, for keeping up with the people you would not otherwise be able to stay in touch with. That’s why you can have a thousand “friends” on Facebook, as you never could in real life.”

Gladwell’s main argument is that relationships on the internet are based on weak ties and revolutions are created by strong ties among people who trust each other. I think he is absolutely right about this. Sites like Facebook and Twitter do work by leveraging weak ties. For the most part these weak ties don’t amount to much because online no one cares about you.

As Malcolm points out, revolutions are dangerous stuff. You do not risk your life or the life of your family for weak ties. You need a strong connection to people already in the revolution if you are going to join it. This was certainly true in my father’s case. He joined the revolution in El Salvador because of his cousin. He, in turn, brought in his then girlfriend and my soon to be mother.

Caldwell is one of my favorite authors and a very smart man. I think he makes some really great points in his article but I also think he misses something. Technology changes the way we communicate and organize. Those changes have a very important impact on the way modern revolutions take place. To me, saying that technology does not matter is saying that those differences do not matter.

This is how technology changes things and why its important.

Power in Numbers

One argument against the importance of the internet in Egypt can be stated as “revolutions are about people.” Revolutions happened before the internet and it is simply a tool of the times. While this is true I think that is an easy thing to say when you are not the one being put in harms way.

When the government can murder your entire family for opposing them, it changes things. It makes it so much harder to become a person of the revolution. A benefit of modern technology and all the millions of people online is a degree of anonymity. While it’s impossible to be completely anonymous when a person is one of thousands Tweeting about change, it’s a lot harder for the government to single them out.

Strong ties and social networks

Ideas are like viruses. They spread from person to person through a society. If the virus is strong enough you get affected by it and want to bring all your friends along. Revolution is an idea virus as well. It’s an idea with a very dangerous and risky outcome. That is why you need strong ties to spread it.

If you are weakly connected to someone on Facebook or Twitter the revolution virus will not spread to them, the risk is too big. However, if your ties are based on real world meaningful relationships, then social networks are like throwing gas on the fire. The idea virus spread so much faster because you can so easily see who has been infected.

Forced Transparency

One of the effects of all of this technology is forced transparency. We live in a world where “secret” government cables can be published online for all to see. Where even the hottest tech company cannot hide their secrets.

During the revolution in El Salvador, many American politicians condemned the revolution calling it a communist uprising. Imagine if Obama or Bush tried to call the revolution in Egypt a “terrorist uprising.” Would anyone take them seriously?

The all seeing eye

In Lord of the Rings, the evil Sauron uses an eye of fire to watch over middle earth. It flits around looking for Frodo and the ring.

“Concealed within his fortress, the lord of Mordor sees all. His gaze pierces cloud, shadow, earth and flesh.”

Modern media coverage is kind of like the eye of Sauron. It constantly scans the globe for the next event to focus the world’s attention on. From an earthquake in Haiti to Chilean miners there is nowhere modern media can’t take us. We were even able to pierce the earth and get video from underground as the miners were recused. When the eye of Sauron is focused on your country you better act accordingly. If the Egyptian revolution had been met with bullets instead of fire hoses the global response might have been very different.

Unstoppable Communication

At the end of one of my favorite SyFy flicks, Serenity, the hero Malcolm Renalds uncovers a dangerous secret about the government. He turns to his friend, Mr. Universe, to help him broadcast the information across the galaxy. Unfortunately, government forces get to him before Malcolm can. On his death bed Mr. Universe tells Malcolm about the backup system he can use. With his last breath he says:

“They can’t stop the signal, Mal. They can never stop the signal.”

They can’t stop the signal anymore. The egyptian government had to shutdown internet service and phone services for the entire country and still they couldn’t stop the signal. After the government shutdown the internet  Twitter and Google created a special number for people to call in their Tweets. One of the interesting quirks about modern technology is that there’s always a backdoor.

It’s harder to disappear

It amazes me that given everything that was happening in Egypt we could track the status of a single imprisoned Google employee. The sight 1000memories.com created a special page where Egyptians could upload names and photos of people who died during the uprising.

During the Salvadoran revolution people were frequently disappeared, their voices erased from history. When someone vanished, you never knew what happened to them. There was no website for them, no news coverage, they were just gone into the blackness, with only the families of the disappeared left wondering what happened.

Everyone has a voice

With the explosion of cheap portable electronics everyone has a voice. You don’t need to be a reporter with fancy equipment. People in Egypt were able to take video and photos of what was happening and post them online. The images weren’t filtered and didn’t need approval. They were online for all to see and react to.

Speed of information

One of the bloodiest incidents in the Salvadoran war was the massacre at El Mozote. Over 200 men women and children lost their lives in a brutal campaign to punish guerrilla fighters. I won’t go into the details but you can read about it here. I was surprised to learn that this event was not reported in any major newspaper until almost a month after it happened.

Could you imagine a major news organization being a month late on the Egyptian revolution? In a world with 24 hour news coverage information moves fast. We can watch in real time as events unfold.

Conclusion

I think Malcolm Gladwell is half right. Revolutions take serious action by brave individuals. The weak ties that are prevalent on social media do not constitute a revolution. What he gets wrong is that these tools have changed the way revolutions take place and that change is important.

I think Thomas Freedman explains it best:

“The Arab world has 100 million young people today between the ages of 15 and 29, many of them males who do not have the education to get a good job, buy an apartment and get married. That is trouble. Add in rising food prices, and the diffusion of Twitter, Facebook and texting, which finally gives them a voice to talk back to their leaders and directly to each other, and you have a very powerful change engine.”

In the 1980s, many young Salvadorans organized only to be brutally crushed by an oppressive government. The war in El Salvador dragged out for 13 years, with thousands of people killed and disappeared. Even after the war ended it took almost two decades before the party of the revolutionaries gained power. By today’s standards, that kind of change is glacial.

Contrast that to the revolution in Egypt which only took 17 days. I know it was a long time in the making but the revolution part lasted just over two weeks. How many lives were saved because the technology existed for their message to be heard, for the idea to spread and for people to organize effectively?

So, do I think all of this technology breeds revolutions? Certainly not. Technology alone does not create a revolution, nor does it guarantee its success. Last summer we saw Iran using these same tools with a different outcome. They also do not ensure there will be no bloodshed. If a revolution takes place in Iran again it might not be as peaceful as Egypt.

I understand very well that the importance of these tools can sometimes be overstated. They do not create a utopia and do not fix the world’s problems. They are just tools that make it easier to communicate and organize. If they did not exist, people would find other ways to effect change, but at what cost?

The shift that technology brings may seem insignificant, but to the people who risk everything fighting for what they believe in it changes everything.

Thirty years ago, when my parents started their revolution, they did not have these tools. There was no way for their voices to be heard. Their only option was to pick up arms and fight. A choice which they paid dearly for. Now anyone of us can create an idea, a website, a video that can influence millions of people and for that, the world has changed.

Returning to El Salvador: The Life I Might Have Had

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It has been 12 years since I last set foot in El Salvador. When I first came, I was 17, I didn’t speak any spanish, and had just met my birth family the year before. My adoptive parents, my brother and I had decided to spend the holidays of 1998 touring Central America. We went to Panama, Costa Rica and then El Salvador. I don’t remember much from back then, only meeting lots of people who looked like me that I knew little about. I had a feeling this time it would be very different.

As my plane made its final decent, we flew past the city and out towards the coast. We headed out to sea, as if we only passing by this tiny country, the same size and population of Massachusetts. Over clear blue waters we did a 180 degree turn and headed back toward land. Moderate winds bounced us up and down some as we got closer to the runway. Instead of thickly settled housing I saw small shacks and green fields. Instead of grid locked city traffic I saw famers on horse back.

I got off the plane and headed toward customs. An agent greeted us and directed us into the appropriate lines. She asked me if I was Salvadoran and with a little smirk on my face I replied no. After sorting through all the days luggage at the only operational baggage carousel, I was on my way. Walking out of the airport I was confronted by a couple hundred people waiting for various family members to arrive. This was a little overwhelming, but luckily I found my cousin without any difficulty. We then made the 45 minute drive back into the city.

That night my cousin, her two sisters and my aunt took me out for buffalo wings. Watching the three of them interact and joke around reminded me of me and my siblings. They seemed so close and…almost normal. Then a strange thought hit me. Am I looking at the life I could have had? Is this what it would have been like if we had never been separated?

Rarely do we get to experience “what could have been.” We often imagine how our lives might have turned out, but to be confronted by it is something else entirely.

It made me question the choices my parents made. El Salvador is still a mess. There is still a lot of crime, violence and lack of opportunity. Did the revolution really change anything? If they had not joined, would it have mattered? My aunts and uncles didn’t fight and their lives seemed to turn out alright. I’m sure life in El Salvador isn’t easy, but at least they have each other. At least they are together.

All About My Mother’s Book On My Adoption

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A lot of people have been asking about my mother’s book which is all about my adoption and reunification. In this video I talk about where we are at with the book and what will be in it.

When is it Coming Out?

We are currently looking for a publisher and if we can’t find anything by this winter we are going to self publish. Unfortunately we do not have a date yet but when we do we will post it!

Where Can You Get it?

Rather then trying to send it out to everyone who wants one we are going to get it listed on Amazon or another online retailer.

Whats in the Book?

The book is written from my mother’s point of view and talks about our experiences as an adoptive family as this journey unfolded. It has 6 chapters which cover various aspects of the story. I have had a chance to read the book in its various forms and I think she did a great job. I don’t remember the chapter names exactly but this should give you a taste of what the book is all about.

  1. Adoption – This is all about my parents’ journey to adopt me in Honduras and the mystery that surrounded the process.
  2. Rediscovery –  This chapter talks about the time period where we first learned of my birth family and how I was separated.
  3. Reunification – In December of 1997 we went down to meet my birth family for the first time. This chapter is all about that experience.
  4. My families’ story – This chapter details how my parents joined the revolution in El Salvador and what lead up to my separation.
  5. My Birth Mother – This is a very special chapter for me. My adoptive mother tries to give my birth mother a voice through interviews she did with various family members.
  6. The Civil War – The last chapter is all about our story in the context of the larger Civil War. It talks about other children who disappeared from their families.

We are very excited about the book and hope that we can get it out soon. The best way to keep informed as to when it is coming out is to subscribe via RSS, email or follow me on twitter.

Comments, questions? Please feel free to leave your comments below or contact me directly: dewittn [at] anasmiracle.com

Mama Chila – By Eva

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What do you do when a person you love is feeling pain? What can you do to help?

It breaks my heart to leave Mama Chila at the Hospital de Heredia today, alone, knowing she is feeling pain and wondering if she will get better for good.

What a brave woman…

Today when I saw her laying on the hospital bed a bunch of thoughts and feelings came along like a big wave, like a sudden and pouring rain… how much I wanted to tell her at that moment, and now I wonder if I will have time to say it to her?

After all, the only thing I could clearly find in my mind was thanks, thanks because she made me the woman I am now, and please tell me how you can thank someone who gave you her entire life and more just in a simple act out of love?

For so many years I’ve been thinking I was prepared for this, but facing this kind of situations is not something you are exactly prepared for… all the feelings of lost and loneliness came again to my heart by thinking I am losing my mother, again…

Today I Remember My Mother, R.I.P.

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Ana MilagroI guess you could say that this is the day that changed my life forever. It was on this day 26 years ago, three days before my first birthday, that Honduran officials stormed the safe house where I was staying with my mother. At the time my family were fighting as revolutionaries in the Salvadorian Civil War.

We don’t know the exact details and probably never will. We think my mother was not in the house when it happened and was able to call my grandmother one last time. We will never know exactly what happened, but what I do know is that this was the last time I was with my mother.

While searching the safe house Honduran officials found me in a back room. I was placed in an orphanage for a year before getting adopted.

It’s a little strange to think that one moment in time completely changed my life forever. Had my mother left the movement like she wanted to, maybe I would have never been lost for 16 years. It’s hard to say what might have happened. But I don’t spend too much time thinking about that any more.

However, for many years I did think about what happened, and this day always was very hard for me. I felt like this was the day that everything went wrong, the day I lost the most important person to me; my mother.

A few years ago that started to change for me, when I realized how fortunate I have been in my life. I started to let her go.

I still think of her on this day, but it’s not the same. I think about what she had to give up. The strength it must have taken to put herself and her family in harm’s way. How impossibly hard it must have been. If I would have done the same. Most of all I think about how the sacrifices she made for me gave me a life and opportunities I might have never had otherwise.

This may seem a bit off topic but I’m a big Harry Potter fan. I suppose that part of me identifies with that character. His mother died for him so that he could do great things. I see that in my own life and its the reason that I try to live everyday to the fullest. I wanted to share a quote that J.K Rowling uses in the final Harry book. To me it says, even though the ones we love are gone, they still live on inside of us.

Death is but crossing the world, as friends do the seas; they live in one another still. For they must needs be present, that love and live in that which is omnipresent. In this divine glass, they see face to face; and their converse is free, as well as pure. This is the comfort of friends, that though they may be said to die, yet their friendship and society are, in the best sense, ever present, because immortal. – William Penn, More Fruits of Solitude

R.I.P. Ana Milgro Escobar de Coto. You will always be with me.

How Do You Make Impossible Decisions?

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How do you make an impossible decision? The type of decision that can forever change your life and the lives of the people you care about the most. How do you walk away from a husband who drinks to much? Or leave your comrades at arms to raise a family? How does a teenager find the strength and courage to run away from his or her parents? How do you leave a business that has been your life’s work knowing it might fall apart if you do?

I don’t know how we make these decisions. We think and think, yet no matter how hard we think the answer eludes us. We are faced with a choice of doing what’s best for us or doing what’s best for those around us. You ask yourself a never ending set of questions as you struggle to make the right choice. Should you honor your commitments even when you are no longer happy? Are you being selfish or doing what’s best for you? When is enough, enough?

I wish there was some easy way to know what the best course of action is, but there isn’t. These are things that you must decided for yourself. You can ask for people’s advice and get their input, but at the end of the day you have to live with your choices. You must be accountable for your actions and accept all consequences no matter how undesirable.

Sometimes I feel like our story has been one impossible decision after another. I admire the courage and strength that each of those decisions took to make. There is no right answer. They are impossible because it feels like no ones wins. Even when you know you are doing the best thing for yourself you can’t help but feel bad for the people it is going to effect.

The Moment it All Changed: When I Let Go of My Past

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Through most of my life I struggled with the fact that the family I lived with was not my biological family. I am sure this is something that many adopted people go through at some time in their lives. I think much of that came from the fact that when I was younger I knew so little about where I came from and who I was. Your birthday and background are such an important part of your identity and for the first 15 years of my life this was surrounded in mystery.

I think this also stemmed from the fact that I could see my little brother as the child of my parents. He was like them is so many ways and I was so different. Not having people in my life who were like me and who understood me was hard. Then I found my family and I found a piece of myself. However, part of me would not let go of those childhood dreams of seeing my mother again. How are you just supposed to let go of the one thing you wanted all your life?

In the last interview my sister asked at what point did it all start to make sense? When did everything change for me? I can remember the day. The day where I was finally able to let go of my birth mother and accept who I was.

It was May 2003 and I was in Central America visiting Eva. I was talking with her about our biological mother because May 19th is the day that she was taken from us and a day that I always think about her. It used to be a very difficult day for me. For in my mind, this is the day that my world was ripped apart.

I was talking with Eva about this. I was so sad and trying desperately to understand why this happened to us. Then Eva said something that I will never forget. She said that I had a great mother in Margaret and behind her, looking down on us, was our mother.

A few days later I was back in Boston. I think I was still feeling a little down. When I got home Margaret had something for me. It was a letter she had sent me while I was in school. The letter was part of something the school was doing and was supposed to be posted somewhere in school. For whatever reason they received the letter too late and ended up sending it back home.

I opened it up and started to read. The letter said how proud she was of me and what a joy it was to raise both Derek and myself. On the back she wrote “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. Do you remember I used to sing that to you when you were little?”

I broke down. I remembered very clearly when she used to sing that song. I remembered all the difficult times we had. But most of all I remembered how she loved and cared for me over the years. How both my adoptive mother and father gave me so much when I was little. How they stood by me when I struggled to understand who I was and what had happened to me. How they always believed in me. How they taught me right from wrong and so many other valuable life lessons.

It was exactly what I needed to hear. My sister was right. Behind my mother was…my mother. I couldn’t believe it. This letter I was supposed to receive during school got sent back but arrived when I was away, so I ended up reading it just when i needed it the most. I guess you might call it fate, but from that moment on things got easier. I felt a sense of peace about the situation that I had not felt before.

Looking back years later I can appreciate so much more what my adoptive family was able to give me. Perhaps my longings for growing up with my birth family came from my youthful ignorance. Or maybe it was easier for me to dream of my perfect family then face the difficulties that every family deals with. Whatever it was, I know now how fortunate I was to have them. After getting to know my biological family more, I see how they struggle with the love and understanding that was given to me unconditionally. How they have a hard time looking past each other’s short comings and just love each other for who they are. What I realize now, is that the perfect family I longed for in my youth, I had all along. Not the family that was my blood but the family that became my blood.

Missing you – by Eva

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Christmas time already! Time for sharing, for good wishes, for happiness and blessings, for family, for friends, for love! God has been good to me and he gave me the big and wonderful family that I now have. I really love you and I am so happy that I have you now, but even though there is always sadness in my heart.

This is the first Christmas since we started the blog, but of course is not the first Christmas without my mom. Thinking about her is always hard, but the time for Christmas and specially my B-day make it harder.

How much I wish to have her every holiday, every birthday, every single day… sometimes it amazes me how much I miss her, sometimes I find myself thinking about her and imagining how it would be to have her. I am sure she would be a beautiful woman, I am sure we would be so close specially cause I am her only daughter, I am sure she would take care of my daughter and would spoil her like grandmas do.

How it would be to have her for Christmas? I wonder… how it would be to prepare Christmas dinner with her, help her and spend my time with her, along with Daniela, Mama Chila and I am sure with other members of my family… she would be a great cooker right? It is part of our family. How hard is sometimes not to cry when I think about her, every tear is a sign of how much I miss her…

I can’t think about how many Christmas, b-days and holidays I’ve missed her, sometimes I can’t think how I’ve lived without her. The feeling in my heart does not fade away, I still miss her same I missed her when I was 3. But I keep going, life is just about that right? Keep going, growing as a person and living with your experiences, trying to get the best of them. I can’t help to feel sad when I think about her, but I guess it means she is still on my heart.

I really miss you mom you will always be here in my heart…Merry Christmas, you know how much I love you…

Phone Call – By Nelson/Roberto

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May 1982

Shortly after Eva saw our mother for the last time, my mother urged my grandmother to take the children and move to Costa Rica where they would be safer. In 1980, Mama Chila packed up the family to live with my aunt Vilma who had been in Costa Rica since 1978. Mama Chila brought with her Vilma’s two children Evelyn and Jacqueline. As well as Ana’s two children Eva and Ernesto. I had not been born yet and our father Luis was in Cuba recovering from the bullet wound.

Earlier that year, Vilma had married a man named Eduardo who was the son of her employer. It was not the best arrangement since Eduardo did not treat Vilma well and occasionally threatened to deport her is she ever left him. Mama Chila and Vilma both worked during the day to provide for the children. Eduardo who was not as ambitious and stayed around the house most of the day.

They didn’t hear much from Luis or Ana. Because of the war it was very hard to send messages. Ana wrote occasionally and the messages where usually delved in person by someone who was involved with the revolution. It had been a few months since Ana had last written. Then one day something weird happened. They received a phone call. Ana never called because it was much to dangerous. Mama Chila and Vilma were both out but Eduardo took the call.

Eduardo sits at home watching TV. Its about 3:30 in the afternoon. My aunt Vilma and grandmother Mama Chila have not come home from work yet. Eduardo lazily flips through the channels waiting for the two of them to come so he can eat. Just then the phone rings. He glances over at it wondering if he should bother picking it up. Reluctantly he stands and wonders over to the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello…is this Eduardo?” an agitated voice replies on the other side.

A little surprised by tone of her voice he replies “Yes…who is this?”

“Its Vilma’s sister Mila” She says nervously

“Mila! How are you? We haven’t herd from you in so lo…”

Ana interrupts him “Eduardo I’m sorry but I don’t have much time. Is my mother there its really important.”

Slightly annoyed by being cut off he replies “No they haven’t returned home from work yet but they should be home soon. You should call back later.”

“No there is no time can you give her a message” She is even more nervous now as someone is yelling in the background.

“Yes of course, whats wrong?” Eduardo questions.

“They found us I don’t know how.” she sounds scared now “I have to go. Tell mama chila I love her and…” she pauses slightly “tell her to take care of my kids…”

The phone clicks and Eduardo not knowing what to make of this stands for a second listening to the dial tone. He hangs up the phone, puzzled by what just happened and sits back down to watch TV.

Sometimes I wonder what it must have taken to make that phone call. She must have known when she made the call she would never see her children again. I can’t even imagine what that must have been like.

That would be the last thing we ever herd from Ana. We never knew what happened to her after that and most likely we never will.

The Orphanage – By Nelson Roberto

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When the gunfire stops a women lays dead face down in the door way. Two men have been shot as well. They lie slumped over rifles by there side. As the police go through the house I’m found crying in my crib. Next to me are two other girls. Social services is called in to deal with us. As I’m being as taken away a news paper photographer stops us to take a picture. One police officer is holding me while the male officer next her tries to get me to smile. It works. My face lights up in a happy little smile completely unaware of what has just happened and what is to come.

I’m taken to a private orphanage in Tegucigalpa Honduras. This will be my home for the next year. I will spend most of my days in a my crib straiting out of the window on the third floor of this clay building. I won’t learn how to walk or speak very well. I won’t eat very well either. But I will be fed.

During this time a notice is put into the paper asking anyone who might be missing a child to come forward and claim me. No one does, so six months after I arrive I am legally put up for adoption. I will wait another six month before I meet my parents.

It’s May 1980 and I have just turned two. My adoptive parents arrived in the country a few weeks earlier. Today we will meet for the first time.

My soon to be dad wakes up early and staring making coffee. My soon to be mom lays in bed a few more minuets for before joining him. They are tired from a long night of nervous sleep.

“What do you think he will looks like?”
“We will know very soon.” My mother replies.

They shower and dress quick anticipating what is to come.

My dad paces nervously waiting for the social worker to arrive. “Why do you think they wouldn’t let any picture be taken of him? Do you think might be something wrong with him that they don’t want us to know about?”

“I don’t know hunny we will see soon enough.”

“Where are they? They should have been here by now.” my dad says anxiously

“They will come try to relax” my mom replies trying to hide her own anxiety.

“I’m going to call to make sure” My dad hurries off to make the call. He return shortly. “She’s not home.” He reports disappointedly

Then the door bell rings. Finally the social worker has come to take them to the orphanage.

As they arrive they are greeted by one of the staff members. Not wasting any time my dad asks. “What is he like?”

“Hes a sweet little boy but he will cry and cry if he is not fed first.” She answers shaking her head

“Oh?” my mom inquires.

“Don’t worry hes really nice” she replies quickly “but he doesn’t talk much. He only knows how to say agua. That means water and he says it when hes hungry or when he needs anything else.”

As they walk through the rooms filled with cribs, some of the children poke their heads up to see the visitors.

“I wonder if we could adopt more than one.” My dad wonders aloud.

“Here we are.” The staff member stops at the last crib on the third floor. “Oh and one more thing…” she says as a smile crosses her face “he really loves Coke.”

This is the moment my had parents been waiting for. As they approach the crib they see me lying down in a cloth diaper and an old t-shirt. I look up with a blank expression on my face not knowing what to expect.

My mom hands me a Paddington bear with a blue raincoat and red hat. I play with it curiously. Its the first stuffed animal I’ve ever had. They pick me up and hold me. I’m not sure what to make of this. They takes turns holding me and playing my with long curly brown hair. But now they must leave to finalize the adoption.

They put me back in the crib and say good bye. They will be back for me tomorrow once it is official. As they drive away I watch from my window, holding my Paddington close, wondering who are these people and if I’ll ever see them again.