We arrived first. We had to get up around 5 a.m., no easy feat
for a non-morning person like Chris, I might add. But it gave us plenty of time to get through
the traffic and rain and be there in time to catch our breath. We followed the directions the Mom had given
us, and made our way to the appropriate courtroom. There on the wall was the electronic docket,
and sure enough, the name of the parents scrolled by, right near the top of the
list. Right place. Right time.
Now on to the … wait.
The rest of the entourage arrived not long
after we did, and we all gathered outside the courtroom, oo-ing and ah-ing over
the cool little hat Cedric was sporting, and looking over our shoulders for
signs of the lawyer. Finally a sheriff
deputy made an appearance and announced that our venue was changing to a
different court because a big case was still being tried in that room. Along with the others who were gathering, we
made our way just a few yards down the hall to the new spot. More waiting.
We noticed that Dad, who had been rather ill over the past week, was
looking a bit pale. Mom carried young
Cedric proudly, but had a look that resembled that of … oh, say … a deer in
some headlights. In awe at the reality
of all that was about to take place. An
adoption that they had waited literally years to happen was coming to fruition …
right now.
Finally we made our way into the already
crowded courtroom. Several people moved
and adjusted their seating to allow us all to sit together on the front
row. It soon became evident that there
just wasn’t enough room for everyone, so our friend the sheriff deputy returned
with another announcement, “If you are not here for an adoption, please, wait
in the hall. It’ll be a few hours before
we get to you anyway.” A few hours? Wow.
That many adoptions? But then, it
was National Adoption Day.
The judge soon arrived, and after the
requisite, “please rise” and “you may be seated,” a wide grin appeared on his
face. He was obviously happy to be at
work that day. His fun demeanor soon spread
throughout the room, too. When Ann and
Eric and Cedric were called forward, we hung back, not wanting to take away
from the family’s experience. But the
Judge would have none of that. He invited
all of us – anybody who was here to support the new family- to come up and
stand around the bench. So we made our
way closer. We thought that the
proceedings were about to begin, when suddenly the Judge remembered something
and stood up. “Oh, just a minute. I forgot to tell you. “Cameras and videos are all fine here today. Usually they are not fine, at all, ever in
this courtroom. But today, for this occasion,
bring on the cameras, videos, cell phones. You name it.” Out came the cell phones, my own
included. OK. Again we were ready to begin. And this time the attorney even cleared her
throat. The anticipation was almost
palpable. In the background a few babies
waiting for their new permanent homes gurgled and cooed and one even cried out
a bit. Hey, I’d be impatient too. Apparently the judge agreed. He interrupted the attorney again. He stood
up and announced, “One more thing I forgot to say earlier.” Parents were shushing their babies and young
brothers and sisters, worried that they were about to be excluded from the
premises until their time came. He
continued, dramatically, “Little babies are … also totally welcomed in the
courtroom today. If they cry out, that’s
OK. Please stay in the room. It won’t bother us.”
Turning his attention to the new family before
him, the judge had them raise their right hands and testify that what they were
about to say was the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help
you God. The attorney launched into a
series of questions for Anne and Eric. “Have
you been working with Depelchin Children’s Home? Did they make home visits and report to the
judge. Do you have any other kids? No?
Then do you understand that your whole life is about to change and you
have to feed and clothe and be there for this little guys forever? ” That last one pretty much sealed the
deal. Maybe that’s one the doctors
should add to their list before a new Mom is released from the hospital. And finally, “What name to you choose to
change his to?” All vows completed, the judge pronounced that they were parents
and child, proclaiming him officially adopted, officially Cedric Ethan
Geswender. And then he gave him a stuffed
puppy. Cheers and clapping filled the courtroom. Photo ops all around.
We made our way out into the hall which by
this time were being patrolled by members of B.A.C.A., Bikers Against Child
Abuse. Cedric received a gift bag filled
with miscellaneous stuff. He was handed
a stuffed penguin as big as he was. And
a book. Refreshments abounded. More photo ops. There were some incredibly proud people
there. An attorney, a social worker, two
grandmas, one aunt, and, oh yes, a certain pastor and his wife. It’s great to be around for the happy
times.
Isaiah 9:6 says, “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government
will be on his shoulders. And he will be
called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
Father, you know what it’s like when a
little baby comes into the life of a family.
The expectations are high, the excitement is almost unbearable. Please surround young Cedric with your
protection and grace. You have already
surrounded him with a family that loves him.
So give them energy and patience.
Transform them into a family committed to following you. Amen.
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