I have a son whom I've never met. He lives on the other side of the globe. My wife and I have pieces of his life, patched together through doctor's reports, photos, and video snippets.
He weighs forty-six pounds, stands forty-five inches tall, and goes to the bathroom on his own. He follows rules, plays with others, kicks a ball, and completes puzzles. He waits in line, feeds himself, and takes his medication.
Our son does not speak English. Nor does he speak his native tongue. Our son does not speak much at all. His lost voice grieves me. I didn't know the extent of my sorrow until a recent breakdown in front of my biological daughters. It was bedtime, and I was reading them a story.
E.B. White's classic, The Trumpet of the Swan, tells the tale of a Trumpeter Swan named Louis who was born without a voice. His loquacious father, the cob, tries to assure his "dumb" son:
"Remember that the world is full of youngsters who have some sort of handicap that they must overcome. You apparently have a speech defect. I am sure you will overcome it in time. There may even be some slight advantage, at your age, in not being able to say anything. It compels you to be a good listener... The world is full of talkers, but it is rare to find anyone who listens...
Some people go through life chattering and making a lot of noise with their mouth; they never really listen to anything--they are too busy expressing their opinions, which are often unsound or based on bad information. Therefore, my son, be of good cheer! Enjoy life; learn to fly! Eat well; drink well! Use your ears; use your eyes! And I promise that someday I will make it possible for you to use your voice. There are mechanical devices that convert air into beautiful sounds. One such device is called a trumpet. I saw a trumpet once, in my travels. I think you may need a trumpet in order to live a full life. I've never known a Trumpeter Swan to need a trumpet, but your case is different. I intend to get you what you need. I don't know how I will manage this, but in the fullness of time it shall be accomplished."
My reading had stuttered and stalled, coming out in chokes and tears. Claire and Margot laughed at me; they live with a fullness that makes laughter come naturally.
My son whom I've never met, who lives on the other side of the globe, has not experienced such fullness--the kind that comes from having a family and a voice. He may be "frightened" and "scared" like Louis, the "dumb" swan, wondering "why he had come into the world without a voice." Perhaps, like Louis, he thinks "Fate is cruel to me."
Mostly, I hope my son finds the comfort Louis found when "he remembered that his father had promised to help..."
I want to help my son whom I've never met, who lives on the other side of the globe. I want to give him a voice.
See Sprankle Adoption information and financial need at Village to Village International.