His name is Noah, and he is their Father. A man aged well beyond his years, the toll of a hard life written all over his weather-worn but other-wise proud yet humble face. I see my Asart in him, their eyes, their lips, and their reserved quiet demeanor. And then there is that unmistakable smile they share, one in which lights up an entire room. This is their Father, the man who raised them to be the fine, obedient, loving, respectful, kind and gentle spirits they are today. I respect him for his sacrifice, I grieve for him the loss he must feel in his heart. I am proud of him for making the very long and difficult three day journey from his home in Gambella to the far away city of Addis Ababa to meet for only one hour, the family that shall take over where he was forced, due to circumstances we cannot imagine, to relinquish these two angels. He did not have to come, he could have said no, yet he didn't. He came, and for this we know more about the history of our Sons then we ever could have. I love him for loving his Sons enough to pass on this small piece of their life, one that they will be able to hold on to forever. He is wearing his "Sunday best" and I am touched by this.
He tells us their Mothers name is Maria and they met when she was 15. They both loved singing and together they sung in their Church choir. They had four children, all boys. They always lived in Gambella. He is a farmer. His Maria passed a short 2 years ago of a common illness that is easily treated and cured in America, but devastating to this third world country. I hear this and it makes me angry, I cry, and we tell him how sorry we are. He thanks us. He is so soft spoken, humble, so similar to my Asart. I do not see a lot of Abrehem in him. The three of them do have the same eyes, but Abrehems personality must come from Maria. Always smiling, cheerful, outgoing, and funny. I wish I could have known her, I'll bet then I would see him in her, just as I see Asart in Noah.
He wishes for his Sons a good education. He prays that they will one day come back and help their family, and their Country. He says he wants pictures as they grow up, and we will honor that, sending as many as we can.
My Sons are present and silent the entire time. Asart is looking down at his feet and Abrehem steadily looks at me, the entire time. We ask them if they would like to spend some time with their Dad, they both say "no". They are relieved when the meeting is over and I got the sense they wanted to get back to their "new" life as quickly as possible. There are many hugs between Jimmy, Noah and I. Not so many between Father and Sons. He shakes their hands to say goodbye, and they are OK with this. I don't know if it is cultural to be so emotionally withdrawn, or a foregone conclusion given they have seen him only once in more than a year. When they are older and able to tell us their story, through their eyes, I hope to have an answer to this.
We all go outside and Jimmy and the Boys start up a game of Soccer. Standing on the steps behind them, watching, are Noah, and the two men who traveled with him. He is smiling as he watches, and he seems at peace with what has happened. I watch from across the way as the Boys play happily with Daddy, while their Father stands just feet away in the background watching. It is surreal to see this, yet here it is, playing out right before my eyes.
I am numbed by this experience. I am so grateful for it. It is one more experience I have shared with my Sons, and they are old enough to remember it. I have no doubt it shall be a conversation we will revisit time and again as they get older. The pictures will be preserved and the boys will have them at their fingertips should they choose to view them. The same care will be given to the video which is of our meeting from the very beginning to the very end. Now they not only have pictures to remind them of what he looks like, but they get to hear his voice, hear his words, and see his mannerisms should they have the desire to.
There are but a few moments in life that are truly priceless....This was one of them...
