Today we wait to hear that our paperwork has gone through and that we’ve received the official referral–an invitation to visit the orphanage.

We are completely lost when it comes to naming things here in Kiev (and this includes everything, right down to the street names).  The letters and symbols are so foreign that we don’t even have the ability to sound things out.

We walk the tree-lined main streets and slip into cool shops.  We find one on the main thoroughfare that contains all the things you might think of when you think Ukraine or Russia–matryoshka dolls (delightful nesting dolls tucked inside each other…as you can see, we purchased one), embroidered table runners, painted keepsake boxes, carved wood pieces, and local artwork.

Try as we might, the internet places are here and there, but no one speaks English, not enough to pay the correct fees to get on a computer.  It looks like we’ll have to search for free Wi-Fi, so we can use our laptop.  The only place we’ve found so far is a pizza place about 15 minutes from our apartment, and each time we’ve gone, we have to order pizza.  Not bad if you’re in America, but when you’re so far from home, it seems bad taste to eat pizza, when you could be eating blinis and pelmenys.

We talk a lot about tomorrow morning after we get the confirmation phone call that we are leaving early tomorrow morning–at 4:30.  What will she be like?  Will she like us?  Will she want to be our little girl?  Will it be a difficult transition for her–leaving everything she knows?  Or will she know and trust us right away?  Will she be afraid?

We know that she already has a place in our hearts.

And one last thought for today.  I had packed the latest Books & Culture to read on the plane, but hadn’t quite gotten to it until tonight.

In John Wilson’s editor’s letter, he had included the most beautiful quote from Julian of Norwich, which I will add here, because I think it says everything in my heart:

“And in this he showed me a little thing, the quantity of a hazel nut, lying in the palm of my hand, as it seemed.  And it was as round as any ball.   I looked upon it with the eye of my understanding, and thought, “What may this be?”  And it was answered generally thus, “It is all that is made.”  I marveled how it might last, for I thought it might suddenly have fallen to nought for littleness.  And I was answered in my understanding: It lasts and ever shall, for God loves it.  And so have all things their beginning by the love of God.”