I've Gone Country A blog about a city girl learning a whole new world

Vika…..sweet….sweet Vika.

She’s just a little girl……

I remember the first night she dressed for bed.  I was in the kitchen and she came to find me after she put on her gown.  She gave me a great big hug.

That’s when I smelled it…..

She smelled like a little ole lady.

She had found some perfume that I had on an old perfume tray in the bathroom.  I suppose she just wanted to be a big girl.

It made me rethink that fragrance…hee hee.  Because it was after all MY perfume, and I would rather not smell like an ole lady.  Even if I am one!

I couldn’t help but smile thinking back on my own childhood.  I loved to smell my mother’s perfume especially when it was on her.  I thought she looked and smelled beautiful.  I also remember her blotting her lipstick on a folded tissue.  That was one of the coolest things ever.  Lip prints!  How awesome is that.  I was intrigued with make up, hair, perfume pretty clothes and high heels.

Vika doesn’t have those kind of memories as far as I know.  She is eight years old and has been in the Orphanage for three years.  That is pretty young.

One morning we were going to Vacation Bible School.  I looked to make sure she was buckled in.  Something didn’t look right.  I got closer to that precious little face.  She had used a yellow highlighter marker on her eye lids.  It was supposed to be eye shadow I presume.  I giggled and she did too.  It is a little hard to communicate being that neither one of us speak each others language.  I wet a cloth and removed it best I could.  I kissed her little head and told her she was already pretty.  I have no idea if she understood what I said or not….but I know she translated a gentle kiss to the forehead as love.  How do I know?  Because she smiled and hugged me so tight…….and gave me a big kiss back.

She is a busy little girl and she isn’t always that sweet either.  You know….she is human.  I don’t want to paint an all roses picture.  She has her momets….but so do I.  We all do.

The other day she was tired of playing outside and came in rubbing her tummy.   She usually accompanies that by saying… OMIE.. OMIE.  That is the way she tells me she is hungry most of the time.

I was making mashed potatoes for dinner.  She was so interested in what I was doing….she loves potatoes.

I pulled a chair up to the counter, picked her up and let her stand in the chair.  I started the mixer with her hand on mine.  Her little eyes grew wide as she made a varoooom…. varoooom…… noise.  I removed my hand and let her do it by herself.  She was so excited and just a wee bit scared.  I used the spatula and turned the bowl while she used the mixer.  We added more salt, pepper and butter to taste.  She gave the thumbs up when she thought it was just right.

I remember so vividly helping my mother in the kitchen.  The sights, the sounds, the smells and the wonderful taste of whatever we made.  I’m sure the things we made were not that special….but they are in my minds eye because a lot of love was sprinkled into everything my Mama made.

We were eating in the sun room that night.  Earlier in the week I had shown her how to fold the napkins.  I took the plates to the table and the next thing I knew Vika was hurriedly setting the table all by herself.  She was ready to eat those potatoes.

The potatoes turned out great.

I saw her grin from ear to ear as the boys gave me the thumbs up on them.  I told them Vika did the potatoes and their eyes widened.   VIKA?  As they pointed to them.  YES!  I said.   They said NOOOOOO…. I said YES!!!!!  All the while little Vika just giggled and smiled one of the biggest smiles I’ve seen thus far.

She is just a little girl so cooking dinner with me is not an every night thrill for her.

She still likes to do little girl things….

Like play with dogs.

Drive the go carts like the boys did.

Feed the chickens.

And climb a tree to reach the plums that are at the tip top.

Once she finishes all the other activities she comes back to the house to be a Mommy.

Where she sets her babies at the table….

Fills their plates with food….

And prays with them.  Thanking God for a list of blessings.

Feeds them when they need her help.

Sits down and eats at the table with them…..as a family.

Afterwards she enjoys a little cuddle time as she rocks them to sleep.

She’s just a little girl…

My heart hurts as I think about her going back to an orphanage.  Not going back to a house where she would have parents that would kiss her and tuck her into bed each night.  Not a place where she will smell her mother’s perfume and cuddle in her arms to be rocked.  Not in a home where she will spend time in the kitchen with her mother learning recipes that she will share with her own family one day.

I’m sure the Orphanage takes good care of her and all the children that come through their doors to live.  If it were not for the orphanages and the staff that operates them…. these children would have nowhere to go.  Vika and the boys are good kids, obviously loved best way they can be…. while in an environment where there are so many of them to show love and instruction too.  Our kids are  just one of many children all over the world that are in this same situation.

I think about their parents.  I pray for them.

At night Billy and I tuck her into bed.  She loves to be lightly tickled.  When she knows that only one or two tickles are left before we turn out the lights….she closes her eyes….and smiles.

I can only imagine that she is building memories…..memories that will go back with her to the Ukraine.

So on those nights when it is time to settle down and go to sleep…..I picture her closing her eyes and remembering those tickles.  Picturing us there with her.

Some times those thoughts are more than I can handle……..

Because….she’s just a little girl……