Safe and Sound

"I remember tears streaming down your face When I said, I'll never let you go When all those shadows almost killed your light. I remember you said, Don't leave me here alone. But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight. Just close your eyes The sun is going down You'll be alright No one can hurt you now Come morning light You and I'll be safe and sound"
-Taylor Swift

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Detskiy Dom № 5

I miss it so much. I want to be back there so much.
     As you drive up the long, winding road to Visotky Village, you see the bright red roof of the orphanage. You close your eyes, and count to 30, now you hear the giggles of kids, "Amerakanka! Eta Briiid-zheeht! Oo ni yest padarek?"
     You open your eyes and see Toma, swinging on the broken swing, whistling into the wind. Galya running up to you "Briiid-zhyeht!!!! Ya skachayoo po tebya!!!!". You pick her up and carry her piggy-back inside, where you are ushered to a small room, to be welcomed. All the kids are waiting outside the door. As you hear the director go on about something, in a language that you do not know, all you want to do is go and see the kids.
     Z is nowhere to be seen, all the orphans run off with "kitty" to get their presents, while Nastia and I are going to the bathroom. Z begins to walk past us, and then latches onto me from behind. "Prri-zha" (She can't say my name correctly, so, Prizha will do!).

     Now, that was only the first 10 mnutes....But, I will describe to orphanage:
When you walk in, the floor boards are creaky and wet. At lunch, I didn't dare ask what was in my soup...little did I know that it was cow heart. In the bathroom, no toilet paper. BOOK PAGES! On the walls are faded drawings done by the children. When you go upstairs, there are four bedrooms, each with easily 25 kids. They are packed in there like sardines. The beds are not even twin sized beds! Think back to summer camp when you were a kid, how little the beds were. They sleep on those every night. The ground level windows have bars on them. And these kids live here every day of the year.
     What will they get for Christmas? Likely a piece of fruit, and if they're extra lucky, a piece of candy. While kids in America are dreaming of getting a Wii, or a new TV, clothes, books, games, electronics, money. While my sestra is dreaming of a family, or nutritious food.
     On one of my favorite blogs, Last Mom, her daughter was in sunday school and was asked, what are you thankful for. This girl is from the U.S. foster care system, as haD been sience age 4 and was adopted at age 10. One girl says I'm thankful for my dog, a boy says, I'm thankful for my Nintendo. "Princess" said she was thankful for a BED. A BED.
     I almost fell out of my chair with the realization that kids EVEN HERE don't have a safe place to sleep tonight. Or if they do, it's on a cold, hard, floor.
     I will repeat, again and again, please help me bring one little girl home, to be safe, warm, dry, toilet-paper-enabled, loved, cared for and adored.
It costs about $20,000. Think. Twenty-thoudand-dollars. Let that sink in.
And it's me, a thirteen year old girl, trying to raise it....little help here?

"Oh, honey pie, you are making me wont you please come home."
-The Beatles


  1. Bridget, sweetheart! I can't read your blog because of the colors you have chosen! All red and orange and pink... I do wish to read it, because I know what a wonderful writer you are, but can't! Would you please do something with it? Thanks! -Bita