Lian becomes one of the family of Christ.
Stylin' in her beautiful dress (with matching stuffed dog.)
Introduction to the congregation (that's the family gown I'm holding, not a trash bag.)
Mama, Papa, the not so happy camper and Godparents Bob Kerner and Donna Haggerty
Lela's posse - Lian, Holly, the Queen Bee, Meiling and Eleanor
I get gifts too? Oh Boy!
Cool shades.
Donna gets hornswaggled into reading a princess story
With Cousin Oscar
Me and sister Gillian and our kids. Aren't we lucky?
The big day, April 13, has come and gone. Since we are Episcopalian, the baptism takes place during a regular Sunday service. We also decided to hold a reception after the baptism in the church parish hall and invite the entire congregation and our guests to lunch, IE a vastly expanded coffee hour – and we’d (read I) would make all the food as a cost saving measure.
Sister Gillian and nephew Oscar arrived Friday at 4:30, which meant a delightful drive on the LIE to MacArthur/Islip during rush hour. It’s only 40 miles so it was a mere 3 hour round trip. They pitched in Saturday to help get the party ready and treated us to dinner at our favorite Chinese restaurant. Lela and Lian glued themselves to Oscar, or “O-ka” as Lian calls him, their big (10yo) cousin. He was really good with them, even sitting through an entire “My Little Pony” movie.
I got up at the crack of dawn Sunday to finish the prep at the parish hall. After spending most of Saturday and Sunday morning getting the party ready, I was feeling rested and relaxed – did I mention I came down with a cold on Saturday? Anyway, arriving home with 30 minutes to shower and dress I found both girls still undressed, as Jamie had been unable to coax or threaten them into their pre-chosen and approved outfits, a midnight blue silk for Lela and a white cheongsam from China for Lian (brought by our friend Charlotte since I had been too brain dead to remember to get one on our trip, Thanks Charlotte.) Once they had been clothed, I was free to take a lingering shower. That is why we were rehearsing with Father Kurt at 10:05 as the choir marked time in the rear.
For Godparents we chose, after intense debate, discussion, waffling and a drastic change of direction, my oldest friend, Donna Haggerty, and Bob Kerner, who is also Lela’s God father. I won’t say how long Donna and I have known each other, but there are people who are considered adults who were not alive when we met. We met Bob and his wife, also Donna (Lela differentiates them as Donna city and Donna blonde) at St. Stephen’s. They are expecting twins any minute, so Donna blonde was looking a trifle uncomfortable – twins can kick in two directions.
Lela has seen enough baptisms that she declared she would hold the baptismal candle. Perhaps 4 is a little too young, but the alternative was a screaming, sobbing child. She held the candle – mostly – except when she had to scratch and handed it off to one of the godparents, including hiking up her dress to adjust her tights.
Lian was very good. She held on to me and observed all the goings on without a cry or whimper. She even tolerated being stuffed into the family gown. It is special – my Grandfather wore it, as did my mother and her sisters and brother, my sisters and I, Lela, and now Lian. Except it was made for an infant in arms not a three-year old, even a petite one. I was praying the arm seams would hold out and she wouldn’t kick a hole in the very fragile 100 year old fabric – when I wasn’t worrying that Lela would set fire to her own hair. We waited until it was time to go up to the font, whipped it on and as soon as it was time for her to be presented to the congregation, whipped it back off.
Despite the distractions, the ceremony is moving and involving in its calls to the family and congregation to support the child and renew our own faith. When I wasn’t monitoring the candle I could feel the love and goodwill surrounding us. Big smiles and daubing hankies filled the congregation. Most of the alto and soprano section were wiping their eyes by the end of the service.
Lian started down the aisle with Father Kurt, then ran back and got Jamie. Father Kurt, who knows better than to try and argue with a three-year-old, sent us out to the congregation as a family, remarking, “She’s very shy – unlike her sister, but she knows she’s got on a really snappy dress today to show off.” The congregation broke into applause and laughter – and that was when I lost it. Then special service number two, a renewal of vows for a 50th wedding anniversary, ensured that everyone who had managed to hold out up until then was weeping.
The remainder of the service went by in a blur of trying to keep two children who had been very good for a long time occupied and quiet and keep them from killing them selves by jumping off a pew. Aunt Christy took the brunt of Lela’s attentions as usual – when she’s around, we’re chopped liver.
On to the party. The menu had to be simple – sandwiches, salads, cheese, fruit, and chips and dips, all cold food since we were going to be otherwise occupied for the hour and a half before the party. And lots of cake, cookies and gallons of coffee (or we’d be drummed out of the church - clearly not good Episcopalians.) Prep started with shopping sprees at Party City, Costco, Trader Joe’s and our local grocery stores – 8 loaves of bread, vats of sour cream, an array of cheeses, enough fruit and veg to feed a hoard of rabbits. The color theme was spring; pastel yellow, green, pink and purple paper goods, balloons, and cups made it look festive. A raid on my garden which produced enough daffodils, hyacinths, forsythia, plum and quince blossoms to fill three large bouquets, though it left the yard a bit sparse. Donna city had brought a large bouquet of roses and the alter guild brought over a sheaf of tulips from the altar flowers so we had a garden indoors. None of which would do well at home since our cats regard flowers as snack food.
I was worried we would either have too much food – or not enough. Well, the sandwiches (egg and tuna salad, ham and turkey with cheese, cheese, and cucumber for the grups, pb&j, turkey and American for the kids and chocolate hazelnut spread that was a might too sophisticated for their tastes) vanished at an astonishing rate. The pasta salads held out a little better, but the fruit salad evaporated, as did the fruit and cheese platters. Two giant sheet cakes melted away under the onslaught. The only reason we came home with leftovers was that no one was on duty to refill the platters. Oh well. And no one was on duty to take pictures of the party either, sigh.
Everyone had a good time eating, drinking, chatting. Lela was thrilled that her whole posse of best friends was there; Meiling, Eleanor, and Holly. For the occasion they allowed Lian to tag along. The party finally trailed off about 2 and we tackled clean up. With help from remaining friends we rinsed the platters, bagged the leftovers, packed our cars, and shoveled everything else into the trash – ok maybe not the most ecological choice but you do what you have to do – which includes not washing dishes for an hour. Back to Grandma Pines where Gillian was packing up for a return to Chicago. Lian and Lela tore into the present pile – the moment Lela had been waiting for as several kind friends had included gifts for her.
Finally Donna city was on the train back into NYC, Jamie and girls were at home attempting to cram leftovers into our already over stuffed fridge, and I was driving Gillian and Oscar to the airport, a breezy 45 minutes on a Sunday afternoon. On the way back I finally had a quiet moment to reflect (while cruising at 70mph.)
Lian started to become part of our family from the moment in Xian when her ayi handed us a scared, silent little girl dressed in yellow. And we started to became a different family, to travel a new path. In this case, different is better. However, all the milestones of adjustment in our daily lives are rarely something I can point to and say, that’s when it changed. The transformation is gradual. But her baptism gave me a special sense of family and belonging, not just our little band of four, but our bigger families. As an adoptive mom I can say with certainty that while blood may be thicker than water, it’s not what creates love. We had the support and love not only of our relatives, but our many friends in the church and community on our road less traveled by. And that road has brought great joy, not just to us, though we are privileged to get to know and love these two little people on a daily basis. I have no doubt that we were meant to be together and all the heartbreaks and losses that lead to this moment were for a purpose, one that was not apparent at the time, but now in retrospect is clear. Whatever mountains were quietly moved behind the scenery, the little miracles that guaranteed the introduction to this person, an urge to make a phone call, the paperwork landed on the right desk, an e-mail was sent at the right time, and ensured that Lela and Lian came to us, make us forever beholden and in awe of God’s true power, the power of love.
I will leave you with one of my favorite poems and a reminder that the road less taken can lead to wonders and joys you never imagined.
The Road Not Taken
By Robert Frost, American Poet, 1874-1963
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
