I had a dream the other night. I dreamed that I gave birth. First to a dog (I know, crazy right) then to a baby. When the nurse held up my baby she asked me what I was going to name her and I said, her name is Kajal. "But you can give her a new name now, you just gave birth to her" the nurse stressed. What other name would I give her, her name is Kajal. Then I remembered thinking, wow, I gave birth and I didn't have any labor pains!

That's what adoption is I realized the next morning, giving birth without the labor pains. You couldn't love your children any more. Now, about the dog, I happened to give birth in the dream to a massive German Shepard. I'm not sure what that was about since I have a Cavalier King Charles but the meaning was pretty clear. Although we have three cats my dog was really my first
'baby'. Waking up in the middle of the night to walk him... every two hours. I think having him rely on me as totally as he did was practice for the next big step to building a family. Some of you might take offense to this but I've heard it stated this way before. Start with a plant. If that doesn't die after six months, (then again, I've personally never been good with plants, they die on me all the time) buy a cat. If the cat thrives, a year or two later buy a puppy.  Well, you can take it from there Not that I would compare a child to an animal, ever. But it was great practice in learning how to be unselfish and focus on something outside of yourself.

I want to thank all of you that follow our story and our blog. The letters I've received in the last several months from all corners of the world have been so full of love and support that it never ceases to touch me or amaze me. I started this blog for Kajal and for friends and family and it has developed a life of it's own. There are more than ten thousand of you that have followed us in the past year through reading our entries and it amazes me. Thank you. Thank you for sharing our story and the blog address with your friends and your email lists and don't hesitate to post comments or reach out to say hello, any time.

We'd love to hear what you're thinking.

Mom, Mom, come quick, come quick!

What, what happened?

Mom, look, I brush my hair and it grows!!!!

After having a bald head for at least the last several years Kajal still gets very excited about her hair. It's all new, literally. It's magnificent, shiny black with huge curls. 

Her eyes glowed with total joy as she ran the brush through her curls, straightening them out and yes, watching her hair stretch longer and longer.

Wow, Mom, I didn't realize my hair could grow so fast... all I had to do, was brush.

How cute is that?

One of the sweetest moments of my day is when I pick Kajal up at the end of it. Those quiet moments while we walk home hand in hand. Like all Moms, I ask her how her day was and she tells me. What is even more precious is that she's started to turn to me, over the dinner table and ask "how was your day Mom, what did you do today?" She asks so politely and always with true curiosity. It's so simple and yet always makes me melt.

We have so much going on right now. I'm packing the house for our move to Charleston SC, learning to drive (yes, learning) and Kajal has started summer camp. Most of our days are full of love and humor, kindness and generosity. We truly have fun together. We have our game time, every night... it's our quiet time, just the two of us and I have to admit, she beats me most times with out even trying. She's so smart! She has this naturally strategic mind that seems to see two steps ahead.

We did have a bit of a tough time after Kajal met with a Psychologist who practices the Ericksonian method of healing. It's an incredible method of communicating with the subconscious mind to heal painful events of the past.

We discussed little outwardly, very simply he explained to Kajal that he would help her 'inner guides' heal her from the bad things that happened in India with the goal of ending her nightmares and fears of being unsafe when darkness falls. Kajal was totally responsive and excited about the concept of, in her words, magic inside of herself... healing herself.

Within 24 hours though it became obvious the work had shaken up her internal memories and worst nightmares. She acted out. It was a Friday night and we were both looking forward to watching a film on the Disney Channel that they'd been advertising for months. Don't you just hate that, the way tv stations throw teasers out there months before the release date? Kajal had this particular 'princess' movie on our calendar for a month. We were so excited and at the last moment realized we need to run out for some popcorn. She wanted to bring her scooter, I told her no... not in the store etc. She wouldn't let it go and before I knew it she actually head butted me right in the stomach. Head butted me! Now, Kajal is not physical... she's doesn't hit me or even attempt to. She hugs.

This stunned me. What do I do? What's the consequence? I thought to cancel the film but she'd been looking forward to it for so long that seemed too extreme for me. I know it was just a film but she'd looked forward to it for so long.

I sat next to her and told her how sad I was by her actions. She started crying, the thought of missing the film crushing her. Of course I could have taped it and had her watch it another day but somehow that didn't seem right either. Well, Kajal, what do you think is the appropriate consequence for your behavior? I asked. With tears streaming down her face she very calmly said, You can punch me.

What? I was stunned... Kajal, punching you is not an option, it will never be an appropriate option, no matter what. I will never hit you. Hitting is wrong and it's not part of this family.

But you want to punch me mommy don't you? It's okay with me if you do.

Oh my goodness... my baby, in that moment, truly believed this. Worse, she believed she deserved it. I told her that her behavior was bad but that she was good and didn't deserve to be hit, ever, by anyone. I calmly reassured her how much I love her and that it was my job to keep her safe.... the words seemed to glaze over her.

I then told her that since she got upset and acted out over the scooter I felt the appropriate consequence was to not be able to use her scooter for 2 days, the whole weekend. She sulked, but perked up when I made a huge bowl of popcorn and we curled up together to watch the Disney movie, after all.

With the help of Kajal's psychologist we came to realize that her acting out was definitely tied to stirring up the subconscious memories of her life in India. With a little more work, she has calmed down and seems so much more at peace. I'd like to believe, inside, she's healing.

I've been following this story in the news about a father who killed his 7 year old son. He beat his son so badly he literally pushed his head through a wall. Every time I see this beautiful child's face in the news, I cry. How can someone hurt an innocent child so horrifically? I've been thinking more and more about adopting again, most likely a child out of the foster care system domestically. Primarily because it would give us a chance to meet the child and make sure it's the right fit before proceeding. I see this boy and I wonder why he wasn't protected, placed in a safe home. Why didn't someone save him before his life was ended so tragically. I find myself wondering who Kajal's brothers and sisters might be...my future children. I pray for them now, that they are safe.

I try to not think about Kajal's life in India but there are days when I can't help but wonder and my heart, my soul, hurts for the harm that was done to her. All the people that raised their hands or fists, that ate in front of her when she was hungry, that left her unattended, uncared for, that treated her like she was 'less than'. All the people that hurt her, all that did nothing to help her.

We spend so much time in the park in front of our house... it's the courtyard of the Old North and it's our front yard. All the dog owners who walk their pets have become great friends and Kajal truly enjoys hanging out with them. This is our cherished friend Jay giving Kajal a little 'lift'.

I have to admit, for a few days after the incident at Kajal's school I walked around in a bit of a funk. Seeing racism so incredibly up close left me more than a bit down and in the moments I wasn't feeling down I was angry at the school system, at the child and at her parents. I tried to be upbeat for Kajal but inside, I just felt sadness at what she's had to face, may yet face in the future. On Bunker Hill day (yes, that's a holiday in Boston) I took the afternoon off and took Kajal to Boston's Holocaust Memorial. I read the poem 'First they came for the Communists, and I didn't say anything because I wasn't a Communist, then they came for the Jews and I didn't say anything because I wasn't a Jew..." and we walked through the six tall columns of glass. I read her the poetry and explained to her about hatred, racism, prejudice and the harm they have done in the world. I also talked about how the world finally stood up and said this is wrong and how important it is to stand up when we see prejudice or experience it, to stand up and say 'no' this is not right. I showed her the numbers etched in the walls of glass and told her that each number represented a person. She would reach out and touch the numbers. 'Can we say the number aloud Mom? And we would, we would read the numbers aloud and say a prayer for that person".

After the Memorial we walked to the Public Gardens and fed the ducks, ate icecream and had tea and hot chocolate at the 4 Seasons. There was this moment when she was sitting on my lap at the edge of the pond and a beautiful swan swam right up to us. She laughed with joy and threw a bread crumb into water and we watched the magnificent swan gobble it up happily. It was such a perfect moment and I savored every second.

Yesterday, Kajal graduated from Kindergarden. We made a big deal out of the day. She wore one of her favorite dresses, we called Grandma first thing in the morning so she could sing her songs to her over the phone. As I watched her singing her songs with the rest of her class I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She glowed with happieness and danced and sang as if she's been here with us all of her life.  I cheered her on as she sang with all of her heart. As I watched her, I pictured the child she was in India. I had flashes of her life with me this past year and a half, the good times and the hard ones. My heart was so full and all I kept thinking was how much I love being her mother.

She's so happy and so proud. The woman, Bee, who works at our local florist gave her a beautiful bouquet of flowers and we celebrated by going to the Old North's gift shop where I allowed her to pick out something small to mark the day. She chose matching heart lockets, one for each one of us. To put our pictures in and and keep us close to each other when we're not together.

Every person she see's she's been telling them 'I congraduated! Yesterday was congraduation day!"

Yes it was. Congradulations my baby.... you are truly amazing.




Kajal's graduating from Kindergarden

It's been an intense roller coaster these last few weeks. Kajal and I traveled to Charleston, SC to explore the area as a potential new home. We fell in love with the land, all those magnificent live oak trees with Spanish moss floating in the wind. It's time for a change for us, a warmer climate with a lower cost of living than Boston. We loved everything that we saw and knew that we'd found our new home.

Kajal playing in the ocean on the Isle of Palms, Charleston SC

Shortly after we'd arrived back home Kajal was incredibly clingy. This happens after we return from a trip. She's much more intense and more needy, literally hanging off of me. For the most part I don't mind, I understand she needs this closeness. One evening I was trying to do some work and she wouldn't stop interupting. I begged her to just give me a few minutes to do what I needed to do but she would stop climbing on me, finally I just blurted out 'just leave me alone'. Her face just shut down. Okay Mom, I'll leave you alone. She backed away from me, her eyes closed down... reflecting hurt and numbness. She walked away from me and kept her distance for the next 30 minutes or so. I got my work done but the guilt was killing me. Kajal, how did it make you feel when I asked you to leave me alone? Silence. Did it make you feel silly? Silence. Did it make you feel mad? She stared at her hands. Did it make you feel like jumping for joy? Did it make you feel sad? She looks up at me. Yes, Mommy, it made me feel sad. Her tears start. I'm sorry, Kajal, I'm sorry I made you feel sad. Did my words make you feel anything else? It made me feel like you didn't want to be my Mommy anymore.

I took her in my arms and told her that I always, always want to be her mother but that some times I just need a few minutes to get work done. We talked for a while and she seemed to calm down and grow more serene.

I always have to remember how quickly she can go that place where her greatest fear, I wont want her anymore, will resurface. Every day I tell her that I love her, at least 20 times... but I'm not sure, for a long time, it will be quite enough.

We got together with her friend Manisha the other day. It's so amazing to see the two of them together after all this time and to see how they've both grown. To realize how far they've each come from that orphanage in Pune. A friend of ours was asking Kajal who Manisha was and Kajal very proudly said, she from India like me! We were born in the same home.

Some how the facts and the details of her history had become confused in her mind and since the only memories she has are of the orphanage it makes sense to her that they were both born there, in that building.

We talked that night of how she was born several years before that and of how she'd had an 'Indian birth Mommy'. It didn't really seem to register though and her mind drifted to other subjects.

Manisha and Kajal on a Carousel


This past year we've had challenges in school, particularly with this one girl who seems to bully Kajal. I've talked with the school, the teachers as well as the childs parents but I never seem to get anywhere. The girl is always telling Kajal that she is smarter than Kajal, she brags of the money her parents supposedly give her (millions of dollars), she brags of gifts she gets or things she has. She points out her clothing and all of her perfections and some how Kajal always walks away feeling 'less than'. This is the same girl who ends up talking Kajal out of her snack money or the little surprises I pack in her lunch box. The girls mother has responded to my concerns with comments of how Kajal 'offer's' her daughter the snack money or other items and her daughter has trouble refusing such generosity. Give me a break.

It's always something, every day Kajal comes home with a story of how this girl tried to take her books, her headband... you name it.

I've tried to caution Kajal about her, explaining that this child is not her friend (the girl has often threatened to not be Kajal's friend if Kajal doesn't give her things) but it seems that Kajal cares more about this little girl than anyone else in school. It worries me that of all the children the one that Kajal wants to be like, wants to 'win over' is the one most abusive.

This morning as Kajal was getting ready for school she mentioned to me that her teacher had told her to bring a book to school. One of her new summer work books. It was field day, a day when the school would be playing outdoor games, it didn't make sense. I verablized my doubt but Kajal insisted the teacher told her to bring a book to school. Okay, pack a book if you feel you need to. Then she went into her room and as she shut the door she told me she needed some privacy. Hmmm, she was already dressed and never needs to close her door at other times. I wondered what she was up to but let it go. She came out of her room and grabbed a work book off of the coffee table and told me she wanted to clean up and put it away... hmmm, something wasn't right. Two minutes went by and Kajal came out of her room looking sick to her stomach.

I don't feel good Mommy. Why honey, what's wrong. I've been dishonest with you Mommy and it doesn't feel good. It makes me feel bad. (Well that's a good thing). What have you been dishonest about?

I've been lying to you. Victoria (that's 'the' girl) told me to bring my work books into school and give them to her so she can be smarter than me. The note in my bag isn't really from my teacher, it's from her, she wrote it.

What note? I look through her back pack and sure enough I find a note scrawled in a child's hand saying something like this: " Dear Kajal's Mommy,  please have Kajal bring her math book to school. Love Mrs. C"

I couldn't believe it! The child had forged a note from my daughters teacher to get what she wanted! I walked over to the school steaming. Kajal asked if I was mad. Yes, Kajal but not at you. I am very, very proud of you that you told me the truth. It's so important to always tell your Mommy the truth. I wont get mad at you for telling me the truth. (I think about this, keep in mind I haven't had my coffee yet at this point) Well, maybe Mommy will get mad if you tell me you did something bad, but I'll always love you and I'll always be happy that you've told me a truth'  Even my head was spinning at this point but all I could do was think about getting to the school and raising you know what. We marched to the school, the our pet Logan right by our side. Dogs aren't alowed in school but Oh Well, it was one of those days, he needed to be walked and she needed to go to school and I definitely needed to see her teacher.

I walked through the school with little kids shaking their finger at me due to Logan's wagging tail, at least he didn't pee in the hall. We got to the class and the teacher wasn't there yet. As I stood in the hall waiting Kajal rushed out, she's in there mommy, she's asking me for the book what do I do? Nothing, baby, Mommy will.

I stepped in the room and saw the little girl standing in the midst of 15 other children. I raised my voice and pointed my finger at her.
"Victoria! You will stop asking my daughter for things! You will not take her money, you will not take her books, you will take nothing more from her from this day on do you hear me? If you want something go ask your own mommy or daddy!" The 6 year old just stared sullenly up at me. Kajal's teacher walked in and had heard the story. She walked out in the hall and I handed her the note. I was shaking with anger. The teacher was stunned, in all her years of teaching she'd never had a kindergardener forge her signature on a note like this. She promised to take it to the principal and deal with the parents. Just keep this child away from my daughter was about all I could communicate, the anger was too much. I didn't think I could get much more upset or rattled, knowing your child was being bullied and manipulated made me sick to my stomack and furious beyond beleif. But there was more to come.

I joined Kajal for lunch at her field day and asked her how she was doing. Fine she told me, but there's something else that Victoria said that I forgot to tell you Mommy. Really, baby, what was that?

A few days ago I asked her to play with me and she said no, her Mommy told her not to play with brown children.

After reeling from those words I told Kajal how wrong this child was, that what a person is all about is what's on the inside not the out. That her skin is part of her and part of what makes her so special. I then marched her over to her teacher and shaking with anger I had her repeat her story to the teacher, reassuring her that I was proud of her for telling us what happened.

I also cornered the Principal who promised to talk with the parents but also said it would be a 'he said she said' scenario. She apologized because she and I had talked about such things when I first registered Kajal at this school and had promised me they had a 'no tolerance' policy on bullying and racism. He said she said bull crap, I said, you've at least got the note, you have proof of what she's been doing to that extent.

We talked about it more tonight, Kajal and I. We read the books, It's okay to be different and It's a colorful world. We talked.

I can't even put into words how sad I feel tonight, before writing this entry I sat and cried. Sobbed from a pain so deep in my heart. I thought of all the children and people of the world who have been hated, mistreated for the color of their skin. I thought of my precious beautiful daughter who felt 'less than' because of such shallow hatred and bias. I worry that she is comfortable in the role of the victim, attracted to the abuser in the group,  that for her it's more important to win over this one person who will only hurt her than to walk away and play with the children who are always kind.

I struggle in writing this because I don't even know how to put what I feel into words. Racism, cruelty, manipulation, bullying... and we're only in Kindergarden.

As I tucked Kajal into bed the other night I sang my little song to her (same tune different words every night) this particular night I sang about dreams, suggesting she dream about rainbows and fairy friends. Mom, what are dreams? Dreams are when you go to sleep and dream about things that make you happy... wonderful fun things. She looked at me puzzled. But Mom, my dreams are always bad, I never dream about good things.

She's never had a good dream. Not one. She didn't even know what dreams were... they're all just nightmares in her experience. I wrapped her so tightly in my arms, wanting to make all the bad dreams go away. Then I talked to her about all the wonderful things we can dream about and as I listed off all of her favorite things, Tinker Bell, Dora, Diego, fairies and butterflies she drifted off peacefully to sleep and I prayed with all of my heart that some joy would make it's way into her sleepy mind.

I remember a time when hope was gone from my life. It took everything in my power to keep taking one step in front of another. I couldn't bring myself to dream never mind hope for the future. It took a lot of work, praying and guidance to reach a point where I could heal and dream again. Now, all I do is dream about the bright future I hope to have with Kajal and her future siblings (I can't wait to adopt more children) and even, sometimes I dream about finding love again.

It's almost impossible to imagine a little girl, seven years old who has been so hurt and let down by life that she doesn't know how to dream. I hope I can help her learn, one little dream at a time.

I started this blog for Kajal. When I was boarding a plane to India, to share our story with our friends and loved ones but most of all for her. So that one day she could read these words and know how we became a family. So these next words are for her, in the future when she's bored one day or struggling with life and hopes to gleam some wisdom from our early days, from her moms words.

Kajal, I know life can be difficult. Some times, unbearable.  When you've been hurt the memories of that pain can darken your mind and even your soul. Hope, even the concept of hope is like an illusive shadow that escapes you every time you try and rally yourself to reach for it. But the reality of life is that the darkness only comes to an end by not giving up, but by getting up each day and doing what you need to do to get through every hour of every day. It's the simple things, like feeling the warm water cascade over your hands by washing the dishes and feeling the sun on your face as you sit in a park on a spring day. The simple things will remind you, slowly, one moment at a time, that there is good in the world and before you know it, the pain will slip away and joy will come creeping in. With those moments of joy you'll start to dare to dream and one tiny dream at a time will lead to hope of a brighter future.

Remember as well that the best way to heal is often by helping others. When we are in service to others we are not thinking of ourselves and the act of caring and helping takes us out of our own way and in doing that, helps us grow stronger.

I remember a Valentines day when I was so lonely, I thought I'd never find love again. I couldn't think what to do for myself so I ran to a CVS and bought about 50 boxes of those tiny little hearts with sweet sayings on them. Then I walked up and down the streets of Boston and anyone I saw who looked lonely or lost, I gave them a box and wished them a happy Valentines Day. Two homeless men were sitting on a stoop, drunk. When I gave them the boxes one looked at the other and said, see, someone loves you.  In that moment I found joy and my self pity slipped away.

Dear Kajal, never forget that you are worthy of a wonderful future, full of joy and love and many wonderful adventures. Allow yourself to dream....

When I picked Kajal up from her afterschool program today she was hungry, really hungry. Normally, I pack her a lunch, a snack for late afternoon and occasionally I give her a dollar to get an extra snack from the vending machines at the community center.

She kept whispering 'hungry mommy, hungry' to me as I talked with the senior counselor about summer plans. As I walked her out I asked if she'd eaten her lunch and her snack and she said yes but when I asked her if she used her dollar for an 'extra extra snack' she said she lost it. Hmmm. I know she's had a habit of either giving away her snack money or having other children take it from her. She finally admitted that she put it on a table and turned away for a bit, when she turned back it was gone. Oooh was I angry at what  ever little brat stole her money.

As I walked her home she became more and more agitated. She started to whimper and cry and make 'the motion'. I've mentioned it here before, when Kajal's really hungry or tired her old habit of begging for food comes back. She doesn't even realize what she's doing but she makes the ageless motion of curling up her fingers to her thumb and motioning back and forth to the mouth without saying a word. That's the motion the children in the streets of India made as they begged. Here she was, my little girl walking down the streets of Boston, silently crying and making that motion.

By the time we got in the house she was sobbing. Thank God I had rushed a quick and easy dinner for her and luckily due to little preparation time it was her old favorite comfort food, rice and turkey gravy. It was warm and waiting but she was crying too hard to eat. Her eyes had glazed over completely and it wasn't even like she was present anymore.She looked completely hopeless, I hadn't seen this kind of despair in her eyes for a long, long time. She wouldn't even lift her hands to eat and her eyes were streaming tears. I fed her, one bite at a time rubbing her back, whispering calm words to her until she could focus again.

Most children get grumpy when they're hungry, they cry, they act out. Kajal's hunger pains subconsciouslly triggered her worst memories and life experiences, they brought her to an emotional place of total hopelessness and despair.

When she had relaxed and her tears were dried I promised her that I would put an 'extra extra snack or sandwich' in her bag every day, something hidden away that she could always find just in case her food that day, wasn't enough. I reassured her that I would do everything in my power to make sure she never felt so hungry again.

Thank you Mom, was all she whispered as she curled up snug and happy in my arms again.

The Museum of Fine Arts in Boston opened their doors with a special open house today to celebrate Memorial Day. They had activities through out the museum for the children that I had read about, particularly an art project where children could do a pencil drawing imitating small Indian art works and those drawings could be filled in with water color pencils and turned into a painting. It seemed perfect, a chance to have fun, learn and celebrate Kajal's cultural identity.

The day was better than I could have hoped for. Kajal was fascinated by the artwork through out the museum. A few nights ago I'd started night time stories of individuals in India who have changed the world for the better, Buddha, Ghandi, Ammachi. She loves hearing the stories and was curious to see some of the massive Buddha's on exhibit at the museum. She practically ran into the museum and danced and slid her way down the marble corridors. She recognized Van gogh's work (from her art class) and gazed at Monet's famed Water Lillies. We talked about light and beauty. In the Grand Hall of Masters she gazed with fascination at the religious paintings asking me countless questions... who were the 'bad guy's', was that Jesus? Who were the angels and what were they doing? Her curiosity was incredible. I showed her Sargeants works and we wondered about the people whose portraits he painted.

When we came to the Indian corridor she took her work very seriously. She studied about twenty paintings before deciding to paint the portrait of an Indian woman. As she painted, she decided the painting was of her and her work was so precious and perfect.

Most children walked around the museum with dazed and bored looks on their faces or curled up in the hallway corners sleeping while their parents gazed at the art work around them. Not my baby, she was pushing people out of the way to get up close to Renoir's work and it took all her control not to reach out and touch every last painting.

We sat in the famed Japanese garden where I gave her a small heart necklace (to remind me that you love me mom, right?) and she wrote in her new journal that we got in the store (I couldn't resist, she picked one with the picture of an Indian girl on the cover, bindi and all) as we left the garden we read the name of the space on the stone wall, 'the garden of the hearts of heaven' she held her new heart necklace and smiled at me. It couldn't have been more appropriate.

For so long Kajal referred to India in only one place, as a place that is full of danger, that 'hurts' it's children. Slowly, I'm seeing her begin to embrace herself as a child of India and the culture as something more than a painful memory. I see her curiosity and her awareness that perhaps India has mysteries and gifts worth exploring.

I noticed last week that Kajal wasn't eating her lunch. I check her box at the end of each day and sure enough, three days in a row there was her sandwich left behind. First the sandwich was all that was left but the snacks were gone so I didn't worry quite so much but by day three I noticed she hadn't been eating anything. Not even her favorite chocolate chip cookies. That made me realize something was really wrong.

Kajal, your lunch box is full. Why are you not eating your lunch?

I don't have time Mommy. Lunch is too fast. Hmmm... that didn't seem quite right. Kajal, has something happened at lunch time? No Mommy. Well, not really.

I asked her what was going on and finally she opened up. A few of the boys were making fun of her and she told a lunch teacher who accused her of lying so she was now afraid to tell anyone at school what was going on. It was clearly causing her stress.

Kajal, what were the boys saying to you? How were they making fun of you?

One boy asked me mommy, he asked me where I came from and I told him.

What did you tell him, Kajal?

I told him I came from God.

That's true honey, you did. We all did.

And I told him that God made me.

Good for you baby, what did the boy say. He laughed at me Mommy, he told me I was wrong. He also told me that God might maybe make our bones but he definitely doesn't make the rest of us. Then he and his friends made funny faces at me and made fun of me.

Well, baby, he was wrong to laugh at you. People believe all different things, some believe in God, some don't believe in God. Some believe different things about God. Everyone has the right to believe in what they believe in and we should always encourage that. We should always be kind and respectful of their beliefs but it's also really important that you don't let what other people say shake your own beliefs. That what you believe is what you believe and it's wonderful to stand up for that and to stand strong by those beliefs.

Do you understand?

Yes mommy, but I don't want him to make fun of me again.

Ooooh, was I mad. I hugged her and let her know that I would talk with the Principal, about the boys and about the teacher in the lunch room who was wrong to not support her. I told her how proud I was of her for telling me the truth.

The next day I marched over to the school and had a serious one on one with the Principal who was very supportive and not at all happy to have heard about the incident. Something must have improved because my dear little one has her appetite again.

She really amazes me. Everything is still so incredibly new to her and yet she has adapted my faith to the core of her being and has  no problem standing up and saying so. How amazing is that? Of course, every day it's new lessons, new challenges.

Almost every night Kajal and I have game time. This is the hour leading up to bed time where I give Kajal the choice of one or two games to play and we shut off the tv and have our time one on one to just have fun. She is so smart and strategic naturally, she whips my butt often. Blink, Trouble and Mancala are among her favorites. A few weeks ago we were playing Blink, a card game where you match up colors/shapes/numbers with the cards exposed in front of you. The point of the game is that the person who gets rid of all their cards first, wins. Kajal loves to shuffle and hand out the cards at the start of the game. Have I mentioned that she is highly competitive? If she wins, she's gracious but if she thinks she's going to lose she gets really upset.

The old, the game is about having fun not about who wins doesn't always hit home with her. I noticed that Kajal was sneaking extra cards to herself, trying to cheat (not realizing she was actually making it harder for herself to win and cheating was actually working against her) I caught her twice doing this and closed up the game.

We're not going to play this game tonight Kajal. I saw what you did and that was wrong. Cheating is the same as being dishonest. If you cheat, you are automatically the loser. You have lost the game, by cheating. I put the game away as Kajal stared quietly at her hands. Can we play it again Mom? No Kajal, we wont play that game again tonight. (Had to try and teach her a lesson) But the reality is game time helps her wind down at night, it also works on her strategic and learning skills and continues to strengthen our bond.

We can play one other game tonight. I pulled out Mancala, a game that's been around a few hundred years where you move marbles around a wooden board capturing your opponents marbles. The person with the most marbles at the end of the game, wins.

As we started to play I noticed that Kajal was cheating again, only she was sneaking marbles into my places on the board. She was helping me win.  When she had a chance to capture my marbles, she refused. Kajal, you don't need to help me, it's okay to win, just win honestly. Win the right way and you don't need to cheat to help me either.

The reality is, Kajal punishes herself. She didn't feel like she deserved to win.  I can give her all the consequences in the world but she is harder on herself than I could ever be.

She'll give herself a time out by going to her room and closing her door when she has done something wrong. She'll clean her room without being asked or write me an 'I love you Mommy" book.

The magic is, she rarely sulks. She may be bummed out for a few minutes but then she looks for a solution. If I've taken away the tv she looks for a puzzle. If she has made a mess, she tries to clean something up. She tries so hard all the time, too hard for a child so young.

She's grown 8.5 inches since she came home to me, gained 22 pounds, learned a new language, adapted to a new culture and just finished a 9 month cycle of medicine to cure the ailments left behind from her life in India. I wish I could help her understand that there is nothing she could ever do that would have me thinking she is anything short of a miracle.

Last night as I tucked her into bed I realized that the dog had to go out. He was dancing circles in front of the door. I promised her I'd be right back but as I ran out the door (I only walked the dog right in front of the building never taking my eyes off of our front door and apartment) I knew she be stressed and fearful. Nights are still terrifying for her. When I rushed back in (thank goodness Logan was quick) not a few minutes later, Kajal was laying in bed with eyes wide.

Mom, did you stop loving me?

No darling, I'm never, ever, ever going to stop loving you. I'm going to love you more than the moon and the sun, than all the stars in the whole night sky... forever.

What if you fall and hurt yourself and bleed real bad and you go to heaven. What then Mommy?

Every time she says something like this I wonder about her past, what she has seen. What are 'normal child' questions and what are questions that stem from previous life experiences.

Well, I tell her, if I fall and hurt myself real bad, I'll go to a doctor and the doctor will make me all better. I plan on taking really good care of myself and being careful so that wont happen... so that I'll be with you forever and ever.

But, if for some reason something did happen and I had to go to Heaven, you have a really big family and everyone loves you. You will be taken care of and you will never be alone again.

She knows bad things can happen. She has lived it. I'd love to say simply that I'll always be here for her but we all know that's not in our hands always. I can't imagine not being in her life for a hundred years, I can't wait to hold her children in my arms but I also know how important it is that she knows it's not just us. That there is more than 'us' and if the worst happens, she wont be alone.

She seemed at peace after this and smiled.

Can we count them, Mom. Can we count our family?

And we did, we counted and we counted... every last one.