trick or treat

Sunday afternoon, after lunch and before the tennis court incident, BoyTwo went down into our basement and found the baskets we use to collect candy when we go trick or treating.

I taught him to say "Trick or Treat!"

It was so cute.

Then he grabbed his mask and ran out the front door. I ran after him and corralled him before he got to the neighbor's house. I had to carry him back to the house, kicking and screaming, and hold onto him while I typed a message to his brother to read to him.

BoyOne began to laugh when he realized what was happening, as did One and Two. I was already laughing. BoyOne rattled off in Ukrainian an explanation as to why BoyTwo could not trick or treat just yet.

"Uh-din, Doo-vah, Tre, Chi-tearee, Peeaht, Shest," he counted.

BoyTwo huffily began to sulk away as he appeared to understand. At the stairs however, instead of turning up he raced toward the front door again and it was a mad dash to catch him. We spent the next ten minutes blocking the doors, laughing the whole time. Very awesome One took the candy she had received from our ward trunk or treat the week before and organized an in-house trick or treat that seemed to appease BoyTwo.

It reminded me of when One was almost three. She found the trick or treat baskets in the basement and tried to go to the neighbor's house for candy. It's one of those things that most kids probably try, due to the fact they don't understand the concept of waiting for a particular holiday. It reminded me that these boys, while 13 and 6, are very much like a toddler sometimes even a baby. They haven't had the blessing of a family who has taught them from the time they are old enough to grab a fistful of hair (4 months) things like "be soft," "don't hit," "share," "help," and so on.

We gave BoyTwo some matchbox cars to play with the first night. He has picked his favorite 3 and will hide them on his person during the day and sleep on top of them at night. This is a method of survival-behavior learned from the orphanage. When there are so many kids around who want to play with the same toys and wear the same clothes, these kids have to keep ahold of things, hiding them usually, to ensure being able to play with or wear the thing the next day.

As I watch BoyTwo hide his silly bands in the couch cushions before taking a bath, I wish that I could make him understand that he doesn't need to hide things here. He doesn't need to worry about his things being taken. And then I wish I could just buy the whole orphanage their own silly bands. Seriously, they're so cheap.

I wish we could just bandage the whole world, wipe away the tears, make everything better. Imagine how hard it must be for God to watch all of this. I used to wonder where He was-how He could let these things happen. How He could exercise enough self control to allow us as a human race to wallow in our own self-induced misery. Then, while I was truly praying about this one night, 5 years ago, I got the answer. I had been researching an organization called Bridge of Love (look it up-it is awesome) that helps orphaned children in Romania. I was researching Romania and their orphan situation while I was holding my brand new baby. In a warm house with tons of food and blankets looking at pictures of other babies half a world away who would never be held, touched, loved, comforted, full, warm enough. I asked why He didn't intervene-where was He???? Please, could He help them?! And He answered this:

"I am here. I hold them. I comfort them. I touch them, love them, and keep them full enough to survive just one more day. And then I do it again. It is my chest they lay their head on at night. It is my spirit that preserves their peace. I hold them every day of their life. What no one else does, I have always done. Where no one else is, I have always been."