Goodbye, Baby

On Sunday mornings and Sunday nights I get my weekly “baby fix.” Kathi Merritt is my supplier. Maybe I’d better explain that a little. Kathi and husband Roy run “Eric’s House,” a home for adolescent boys. Most sane people would consider that enough of a challenge, but not Kathi. When the baby orphanage across the road from Eric’s House filled to overflowing, Kathi brought six of the toddlers over to live with her big guys.

I’ll admit that I thought she had lost her mind. However, after a few visits I saw her wisdom. Those teenage boys love having those little ones around. They carry them, play with them, and hug on them. And the toddlers look with adoring eyes at their adolescent pals. As Kathi says, it softened the atmosphere. A winning combination all around. Shown in the photo are Molly, Sterling, Kingstone, Stanley, Newton, North, and Eunice.

On Sunday mornings and Sunday nights, the bus from Eric’s House pulls up in front of Johnson Auditorium and the gang of large and small bodies pours out and heads for the pews. I try to be ready and waiting to grab one of the little ones for my lap. Ostensibly, I’m helping Kathi out so she doesn’t have so many to worry about during church. But the real reason is that I need some time to love and hug on one of those cute little guys!

For the past couple of months Kathi has usually handed me North or Newton. These handsome boys are half of a set of quadruplets. One of the quads died at birth, the parents kept one of the babies, and North and Newton went to the orphanage at Namwianga until Mom and Dad could handle having all of them.

By Zambian standards North and Newton are extremely active. The other toddlers are usually content to sit quietly, turn the pages of the songbook, and eventually fall asleep in my lap. Not North or Newton. They grab my glasses, my earrings, and my nose every time they get a chance. They want to shred the songbook, not turn the pages. And sleep? Out of the question when there is so much to see and do. I love every minute, but I admit I am tired when the service is over.

But then came the time when North and Newton were to go home. Their mom and dad spent a week at Roy and Kathi’s to make sure that the boys, the parents, and the other quad (a girl) bonded. Rough-and-tumble North and Newton had lessons to learn from their smaller sister. She let them know right away that she was not one to be tampered with.

Last week I held Newton on my lap on the Sunday night before he was to leave with his parents. We started out in the usual way: he pulled my glasses, yanked on my earrings, and tried to mutilate the songbook. I gently put a stop to all that with a big hug. He sat still for just a couple of minutes, and then—miracle of miracles—his eyes got heavy and he fell asleep. I watched his handsome little face as he lay relaxed in my lap and savored every moment. I took his little black hand in my white one and marveled at the beauty of his fingers.

Church ended, but Newton slept on. I gently repositioned him on my shoulder and carried him out to the Merritt’s bus. “What shall I do with him?” I asked Kathi.

“Well, his dad is right behind you. He’ll take him.”

So I handed off my little warm bundle. I gave Newton one last kiss on his head.

“Goodbye, little guy,” I whispered, swallowing the lump in my throat.

My head knows that it’s a good thing for him to be with his sister and parents. My heart (and my lap) will need awhile to agree.