A week before Christmas, the girls decided they wanted to buy gifts for the family. Molly wrote a shopping list and busted out her savings for the occasion.
Watching Mack play with it melted my heart.
Not real sure how to caption this photo, so I'll let you use your imagination.
The week before Christmas we were able to have Jayson's eye examined by a pediatric eye doctor at Wolfe Eye Clinic. As hopeful as we were for cataract surgery, we were told his right eye does not, and never will function.
I wasn't surprised. Maybe disappointed, but not surprised. Our Jay, as small and fragile as he is, is stronger than so many of us ever will be. He has overcome; he is a survivor.
For him it's a way of life. Always has been...
I wake him for school each morning and more often than not, find myself kneeling beside his bed to watch him sleep. I stare at his perfect little face and wonder about his birth mother. Did she ever watch him sleep? Did she watch him sleep the night before leaving him alone at the train station? Did she hide nearby and watch him, waiting for someone to notice and rescue him? How desperate she must have felt. I watch his eyelashes flutter and wonder if his broken eye was the reason for all of it. And I know my questions will likely never be answered. I will never know her motivation or the circumstances that would force a mother into that position. I will also never know what ran though his mind...
We have a LONG way to go, but we also know how much God loves the orphans. HE will see him (and us) though.
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