Return to Taiyuan

Throughout the last week, my brain kept repeating the same phrase.

This can't be real.

The flight was paid for. The visa went through. The timing was perfect.

I was in China. Again.

The plane and train rides to Taiyuan were long for me read through last year’s journal—the year of post-China 23-year-old Laura.

9/1/13: “I think I’ve had more trouble sleeping and been sad for the last week because I knew my kids would be starting school.”

10/3/13: “I woke up from a dream where I watched (and felt JOY) as Fabio prayed to accept The Father at a camp and then he was asking for me so he could tell me about it. When I woke up I remembered that this isn’t the case, and that was hard.”

11/2/13: “Tonight I looked through all the cards they made me again. I guess my fear is that we’ll forget each other, and I love them so much—I just don’t process it when I’m awake.”

Taiyuan, SMBS, my students, the mini market across the street, Fabio—they wove their way through not just one, but two years of my life. They were mentioned in my journal every few days, and I had no idea how wrapped up I was in them until I went back at them and read through it all.

I spent so many nights dreaming about going to visit my kids and being forgotten, usually when I was anxious or depressed. I had mornings when individual kids would come to mind and I would spend the day lifting them up. I had random bouts of sadness because I knew I’d never see them again.

But, there I was, riding to Taiyuan.

The city I used to loathe like hairy gum on the bottom of my suitcase.

The city that had haunted me for a year.

Except it wasn’t the same Taiyuan. When Bethany and I got there, we gaped at new roads and buildings that crisscrossed what used to be familiar landscapes, and I know if I’d been let loose on the city I wouldn’t have any idea where I was anymore.

China changes fast.

And some of my bad dreams did come true.

My kids didn’t recognize me at first because I’ve lost weight and grew my hair out.

On Monday morning, I marched through ranks of MY third graders, getting screwed-up-face side glances that said you look familiar but I can’t quite place you.

The moment one small soul squeaked out “MEES LOVE”, though, was when everything broke loose.

I wish you could’ve seen the looks on their faces.

Dropped jaws, wide eyes, gaping smiles.

Screams, hugs, kisses, and yes, butt smacks.

"Mees Love! Mees LOVE! MEES LOVUUU!!!"

Fabio—my darling Fabio—ran out of his classroom, careened down the hallway with arms outstretch, and barreled into me. He’s taller and more handsome, but still the goofy, quirky, cheesy kid he was last year.

The rest of the week was perfect. I simply sat in on my kids English classes, watching my co-teachers from last year, Angel and Ann, who were lucky enough to keep these wonderful children another year. From the back I observed how my babies had changed—how they had become smarter, cuter, and more mature—and I prayed for them. A LOT. Angel and Ann even gave me time to show the kids a powerpoint of my last year and trip to Mongolia. I got to tell them again how very much I love them.

Maybe you could say it was fulfilling or rewarding—but it was something much deeper than that.

I love these kids to the moon and back.

While it’s nice if they think I’m cool or pretty or sweet, I don’t care a bit how much they remember about me personally.

I just want them to remember that I love them, and that I love the Father, because I want them to know Him SO BADLY.

My love for these children has not waned in a year, and I want nothing more than for them to have the Ultimate Gift.

 Some highlights from the week:

Justin throwing his arms around me and singing about how he’ll never let me go, because those were song lyrics they were learning that week for Children's Day.

Playing basketball with the boys in Class 2.

Watching the kids flail around during dance time.

Dave saying “Yesu!” when I showed the kids pictures of last Christmas.

Arnold throwing a basketball in the dirt and exclaiming, “Eet’s salty!”

(He's the one in the blue glasses)

Helping Fisher—a boy who gave me trouble last year—with his spelling, having him look up at me through deep, dark chocolate eyes, and hearing him say “Thank you,” with a perfect “th”.

Having miniature conversations with Class 6, who had the worst English at the beginning of last year and now rank among the top three classes.

Esty showing me the picture of me that she’d saved in her pencil box.

April telling me, “I very very VERY VERY VERY love you.”

Discovering that my relationships with my co-teachers Ann and Angel haven’t changed.

(the one on right end is Jane, who was in my office but never taught with me)

And, when a powerpoint wouldn’t work in one class, Ann insisting that we would get it fixed so I could show the kids the next day because

“This is your heart.”

She also said, “Oh, Laura, you have given me so much spirit!” after I helped her prepare for her Children’s Day performance.

When I left, I felt some sadness, but there was a sense of peace that I didn’t have the last time I watched Taiyuan disappear behind me. Why?

Because I know the Father can do anything, and if He wants me to go back, He will make it happen. 

My kids know they are loved and I WILL see some of them again.

My favorite shopkeeper from across the street, who wouldn't stop asking when I was coming back.

It was the best week of my life--not because I was so happy or received a thousand hugs, but because I saw that the seeds planted by the Father were still there, and I know that some of them will keep growing.