Exports of the Republic of Kazakhstan: Meat, fuel, metal, textiles, oil, and my little sister.

My little sister’s adoption story is something I hold uncommonly close to my heart, but strangely enough, I tend to avoid writing about it. My very feeble reason for this is simply that I am afraid to. I lack the nerve to express myself in ink because I can’t bear the thought of making my little sister’s adoption story, a story that is almost unbearably poignant and treasured by my family and me, sound trivial or cliché. Gracie’s homecoming altered me permanently, and not doing her story justice would be a tragic misrepresentation of who she is, what she has been through, who I am, and how very boundlessly my family and I adore her. But since tomorrow is our Kazakh princess’ seventh birthday, in her honor I will say a few things and hope it comes out alright.

Gracie was born Saltanaut Ersalimovna Bashimovna, and spent the first six months of her life wet and hungry in a poor Kazakh orphanage. In a crowded room of 11 other children, my infant sister lay for hours at a time in crib #6, her arms safety-pinned at her sides to a scandalously thin, filthy mattress. When she was fed, she ate a kind of Russian oatmeal called “Kasha” with an enormous soupspoon. With signature haste and gruffness, the “care givers” fed the babies in a kind of assembly line, administering a meager amount briskly, and then moving on to the next famished mouth. My parents’ home videos of Gracie’s orphanage show the children crying hungrily after they took their last bites. The infants were then again abandoned to their rickety cribs to endure hunger pains and await the uncertain arrival of their next meal. This Kazakh orphanage’s poverty was overwhelming, and basic needs like food, diapers, extra clothes, (and certainly toys) were unavailable. At this orphanage my sister was nothing more than baby #6, hungry, wet, and nameless like her crib-mates.

My parents trekked across the world to rescue this new, wholly unknown member of our family. The only glimpse we had received from the adoption agency was a 10 second video. They visited her for a first emotional time, holding and kissing and caressing this dreamy little infant they had claimed as their fourth daughter. Looking back, my parents stammer over the ineffably profound, moving moment of meeting their new baby girl, and at the time, through their speechless tears of love and awe, decided to name her Grace.

Part of the process of a Russian Adoption, is that the couple has to make a series of visits to the child before they can take him or her home. On my mom and dad’s second visit, they were confronted by very angry Russian Caregivers, who shook their fingers and (via translator) told my parents that they had “ruined this child by holding and giving her too much attention” because she had “cried all night”. After six months of life on this earth my sister had experienced authentic human love, tenderness and warmth, and clearly she had no intention of returning to her old lonely ways. Luckily for Grace, (and us!), she never had to.

As much as we saved Gracie, she has saved us. With every blessing she received from her adoption, she has returned the blessings one hundred fold—she is our little Russian gift that keeps on giving. Her boundless love, enthusiasm, and chatty tendencies help keep me and my natural inclination towards quiet in check, and our differences complement each other. A tap from her chubby hand wakes my sisters and I up at all hours of the night for a “big girl sleepover”, and her daily offerings of soggy water-colored rainbows have provided me with an eternal supply of wall decorations for my dorm room. She has a surprisingly well-developed six-year-old sarcasm that has caught me off guard far more than I’d like to own to, and her uncanny knack for debating and holding a witty conversation never ceases to keep me laughing. Even though she is so young, she has an undeniable passion for living life as a six-year-old that I love to watch—when she laughs she emits a kind of whole-hearted, big, belly-deep giggle that holds me riveted, and when she cries her beautiful almond eyes produce more little tears than I thought humanly possible. She’s quite cute. Grace Elizabeth Bashimovna has made my life like her rainbow paintings: unpredictable, colorful, unique, love-filled, and perhaps a little bit drippy.

Last year I received the commission from my mother to teach Gracie how to read. As I sat there helping her to sound out the words “the cat sits”, I couldn’t help but wonder how different things would be if she was instead reading, “eta kowshka seedeet”, the Russian equivalent. Gracie is as much a member of her family as any of her three older sisters. Although to an outsider her Asian façade may set her apart, when we look at her we see a striking family resemblance. I feel a cliché coming on, but I can’t help it: we couldn’t live without her.

Gracie: "Mom, did I come from your tummy?"

Big Kat: "Gracie, you came from my heart."

Comments

[Nicole]

Courtney, thanks for sharing this sweet story--- Gracie seems like such a light and joy :)

[Nikita]

this was a beautiful and almost tear- jerking explanantion of your little Grace's journey. she is such a little blessing to everyone she meets

[Alycin]

Wow, this is strange--I am going to Russia next summer to volunteer in orphanages there. Your sister is adorable. =)

[Magnus]

You must have experienced similar hardships in the harsh land of Sweden. I presume that you have never lived there, despite of what you write - because, although it is mandatory for swedish students to learn english, it would be incredible for you to have attained the level that you're at, had you lived in Sweden. You write with such tenderness and devotion, it cheers the dreariest of hearts. You'll be a premium instructor for Gracie.

[Lena France]

Court,
This Ode to Gracie is the best thing I have ever read on my computer screen! Thank you profusely for using your amazing God-given talent to compose this Ode to my favorite little Kazakh in cowboy boots! Your writing is out of this world. I wish my job was to just read your blogs each day :) The line, "Grace Elizabeth Bashimovna has made my life like her rainbow paintings:..." is almost as palpable as your little dialogue of Gracie and your mom...love it so!!! Big love to Gracie on her B-Day! One day she will truly realize that she has already been given the most precious gift in the world....to be a Kampa surrounded by love!

[Lena France]

Court,
This Ode to Gracie is the best thing I have ever read on my computer screen! Thank you profusely for using your amazing God-given talent to compose this Ode to my favorite little Kazakh in cowboy boots! Your writing is out of this world. I wish my job was to just read your blogs each day :) The line, "Grace Elizabeth Bashimovna has made my life like her rainbow paintings:..." is almost as palpable as your little dialogue of Gracie and your mom...love it so!!! Big love to Gracie on her B-Day! One day she will truly realize that she has already been given the most precious gift in the world....to be a Kampa surrounded by love!

[Michael]

I absolutely adore your Gracie post(s). The way you write about her might as well be me writing about Karoline - only ten times better. It's so hard to express that kind of love, but you did - without cliches (okay maybe one) and it is certainly not trivial.

[Laura]

OMG, courtney your an amazing writer! i never knew those details about gracie's path to the lovely kampa family. she is an amazing girl, and i lv her so much! this made me cry reading this story because your family is so amazing, i would love to adopt as many children like gracie i could! You are blessed to have an amazing little sister, and she is blessed to have such a loving family. I LV YOU Courtney and your amazing gracie!

[Aunt Teri]

Courtney - now that I am "working at home" and have even more time to procrastinate, I am just now reading your web site for the first time in several months! What a nice writing style you have - beautiful, like you are. I was very moved by your story of Gracie, our youngest princess. Having an adoption story of my own, I particularly treasure how God's hand works in our lives. And, yes, I so often see the family resemblence, too - and always the love. Keep up the wonderful gift of writing you have - and dancing! You are beautiful at both!!)

[Suzanne]

courtney...this blog about grace is amazing. not only are you a good writer but wow you sure can write for the heart...its great and I am so glad im sitting here at the LaMonica's because they showed me it and it just brought tears to myeyes....i love it and i love you girl! miss u xoox

[Holly]

Darn you Courtney! Here I am at work...going back through your past entries and I'm sitting here with tears streaming down my face. What a wonderful tribute to your sister!

And I love the Kampas...ALL of them!

(Just wait till Megan has to be the BIG sister for real once Keenan is gone, to Gracie...maybe we can get Gracie to kick Megan into shape! hahaha)