The last few days, Kajal has found ways to communicate things to me. Things of her life in India. Small and big, frightening and horrific. In few words she gives me an idea of just how horrible her life really was... how full of pain and neglect. Much of it can not be shared here but a few simple things will give you an idea of at least a little bit of what her life was like at the orphanage... and how a little girl can remember joy sometimes in the simplest things. One night, looking over the pictures of the orphanage Kajal noticed a large rusted barrel in the background. She pointed to it and excited said to me 'shower' I asked her if this is where she 'showered' and she said yes and pointed to the pipe coming out of the ground near by and said water. She smiled when she thought of that outside bath... I was seeing an incredibly rusty, dirty old barrel and she was seeing moments of joy.

Another memory was glancing at a photo where she saw a crib in the background. 'Babies' she said, 'babies bed'. I asked her if that was where she slept and she said 'no mommy, me no bed, me' and she pointed to the ground. I said 'you slept on the ground?' and she nodded yes. I wrapped a blanket around her and tickled her and asked, 'blanket? did you have a blanket?' Kajal, looked at me very seriously, quiet and responded 'no mommy, cold, me cold'.

I just held her for a while and told her, she never had to be cold again.