Ouseman One-Eye Diggs was born in Liberia eleven years ago during one of the worst years of the civil war in that country. There was little food and the water available was often unclean. The country was in upheaval and had been for years.
Ouseman was born to a family with three girls. He was born very tiny because of the lack of nutrition available to his mother. His eyes were almost closed due to a genetic issue, and he saw the world thru tiny slits. He was the first son. His father had died from jaundice just a few months before he was born, leaving the baby, a mother, and three older sisters alone.
In Liberia, the children belong to the father. If the father dies, then the children go to the next living male relative. This should have been Ouseman's paternal grandfather. Perhaps that grandfather was dead. Ouseman and his mother and his sisters went to the house of his mother's father, an old man who had seen too much and had little to give these extra mouths thrust upon him in a time of war and poverty.
Ouseman's mother had a friend, a man whom Ouseman called Johnson. But Johnson was a bad man. Ouseman's grandfather would not let Johnson come into their house, and forbade his daughter to be with Johnson. But sometimes Cecilia would sneak out of the house, taking Ouseman with her, and go to be with Johnson. There would be a little food to eat there, and perhaps some feeling of love. But mostly there was violence.
When Ouseman turned seven, the family could barely feed the youngest ones. One day, the grandfather found some chicken...enough to boil to make a broth with a bit of flesh, some bones, and a bit of root vegetable. Ouseman and his little sister, Mawbe, drank the soup. There was not enough for the older children or the adults to eat. But Ouseman didn't care. The food felt good to his tummy that was almost always empty.
Ouseman's grandfather could not provide for all under his roof. He talked to his wife and his daughter, and they decided they must take one of the children to the orphanage and see if they could find a home for her. There was a man who came to the village that said that Americans were willing to adopt the children of Liberia and feed them and educate them.
Cecilia took Tootie to the orphanage and left her, a family in America having been found for her.
One less child did not make things any easier at all, and it was decided for the sake of the boy, that Ouseman should also go to the orphanage. Perhaps he too would find an American family. Perhaps he would get an education. Maybe the orphanage would help to find a doctor who could take care of Ouseman's eyes and the very large hernia in his tummy.
The grandfather talked to the man at the orphanage. The man at the orphanage had seen this too often. Families who love their children bringing their children to people who would send them far away...just so the families would not have to watch the children die from the terrible cancer called hunger.
A family was found. The family said they would adopt Ouseman.
Ouseman did not know how, but the grandmother was able to make many nice pieces of cloth, from which she cut and sewed seven tiny African outfits for him. The grandfather was able to find a new looking bag with a shoulder strap to put these outfits in for Ouseman to take to America. Cecelia and her mother spent precious money to have photographs taken of themselves. They borrowed purses and shoes and worked carefully on their hair, so that the photographs that Ouseman had to remember them by would remind him that they were beautiful, proud women. They also packed the few things that belonged to Ouseman: a pair of Jurassic park pajamas that had been given to him from a missionary box, a well worn toothbrush with the bristles pushed out sideways as tho it had a part down the middle, and one pair of very well worn boys' undershorts.
Cecilia took Ouseman to the orphanage. She brought her mother with her, and they brought along Cecilia's sister's child, Garrison, who was also going to be adopted by the same family as Ouseman. All that Garrison had that belonged to him were the clothes he was wearing and a little card that had been used at a medical clinic with his photo on it. They slipped the card in Ouseman's bag. His paternal grandmother, with whom he and his mother and siblings lived, had found a little pair of white slip on shoes. They were girls shoes, but to Garrison and Ouseman, who had never owned shoes, these little scuffed shoes looked beautiful.
Cecilia cried when she left Ouseman at the orphanage. Ouseman could not remember any of her words. He was too excited. He was going to America. He was going to get food. He was going to go to a real school. He was going to be rich.
He did not look back once at his mother.
He was too hungry.
Ouseman and his cousin lived at the orphanage in the city for three weeks. There was a law in Liberia that said that all children who were adopted must be adopted from an orphanage or a government sanctioned foster care home. Ouseman's family had wanted to keep him as long as they could, but most families brought their children to the orphanage right away, even if a family had not been found.
However, Ouseman had found an American family almost as soon as Cecelia's father had talked to the orphanage. The family had heard his name, and knew that this was the boy they should bring to America. The Liberian adoption was finished within a couple months of the grandfather's contact with the orphanage. This was very unusual for a child to be adopted so soon. Ouseman's family was told that the American family now decided what would happen to Ouseman.
But when the American family was contacted, they were very happy that Ouseman could be with his family until just before he left Liberia. Ouseman was able to spend five months with his family in between being adopted and being sent to the orphanage on the way to America.
Life at the orphanage was good and bad. Good because there was food and school. Bad because the older children who were much bigger often took Ouseman's food if an adult wasn't around. There was not much food...sometimes only one rice bowl a day. Everyone was still very hungry. But it made Ouseman mad. He had never had food every day, and he was angry that sometimes a bigger boy would take his rice from him.
He liked going to school. He liked playing with all the children. But school was good and bad too. The teachers hit him sometimes because he would not learn his lessons. He tried to learn them. He worked very hard. But his brain could not understand. So he would get hit. But he was used to being hit. At least at the orphanage he was being hit with a hand and not a stick. Being hit didn't hurt badly. It just made him so sad that he couldn't think sometimes.
After three weeks, Ouseman and Garrison got in the old blue van to go to the airport, along with three other boys who were going to America. Liberia had erupted into war again, and the American parents were not allowed to come to Liberia. Reverend Kofi, the man who started the orphanage and other orphanages, a man who loved God and was trying hard to educate Christian men in the ways of God so they could help heal their country, was going to America as he often did, to share with the people over there about how things were going in Liberia. He would be taking the five boys to Boston, Massechusetts, and meeting the new American parents there.
Ouseman did not like the airplane. It made him scream and cry. They spent many hours on the plane. Too many. He cried often. But he liked the food. They gave him food. And he slept alot because the food made him tired.
After many, many hours, the plane landed in America. Reverend Kofi took Ouseman by one hand and Garrison by the other hand, and led the five boys out of the plane. There were many people waiting for them holding lots of balloons. Ouseman did not know who he should be with, but he liked the balloons. He had never seen balloons before and they were of such lovely colors.
But Reverend Kofi would not let him go to the balloons. He led Ouseman and Garrison over to a very big man who was standing to the side of the happy crowd.
"They are all yours!" Reverand Kofi said to the big man, with a laugh of relief. Ouseman and Garrison had not been easy to care for on the airplane, and they had made the Reverend very, very tired.
The big man looked at them. Ouseman and Garrison ran to hug him. He was very, very big. Much bigger than the men in Liberia. And he had an awful lot of hair on his face. But he looked kind. The big man was very happy that the boys wanted to hug him. But Ouseman did not hug the big man because he like the big man. He hugged him because the man held his arms out, and that is what you do when someone holds their arms out.
The other families with the balloons came over to see the little boys and their new daddy. Someone handed a balloon to Ouseman and a balloon to Garrison. Ouseman hugged these people too.
All of a sudden there was a loud POP! Ouseman turned around and saw that Garrison had popped his balloon. The little boy's face was screwed up in surprise and he began to cry. Then Garrison caught sight of Ouseman's balloon. Immediately, the little cousin quit crying, and his eyes became big and round. Garrison walked with stiff legs, his arms stretched out in front of him, intent on grabbing Ouseman's balloon. Ouseman pushed up against the big man, hoping the big man would protect his balloon from his crazy cousin.
The big man did protect the balloon, but he learned in just that short moment that Garrison was not going to be an easy fellow to live with. Ouseman already knew that. Yes sir, Ouseman knew that for a fact!
The big man took the boys to a room in a hotel. It was so beautiful to Ouseman. He and Garrison ran around and around the room, jumping on the beds, turning lights on and off, running the water, opening and closing, lifting and throwing.
The man called his wife on the telephone. He spoke about the boys, and how really wild they were, but his wife told him she was sure they were just very tired and would calm down soon. She tried to talk to the boys on the telephone, but the boys only found it good fun, hearing a voice of some lady coming thru the white thing.
The man said that he was their daddy. And that the boys could call him Daddy. Ouseman and Garrison didn't care. There was food. The man had food. And they had a beautiful place to sleep. Ouseman soon fell asleep, so tired from the long, stressful trip. He hadn't been sleeping long when he was awakened by a kick to his head. Garrison was not yet ready for sleep, and not caring much for Ouseman, Garrison decided that kicking the older boy while he was asleep was a fun deal.
Yes sir! Ouseman already knew that Garrison was not an easy fellow to live with. He could sure tell you that!
Daddy finally got both boys to sleep.
In a few hours, they were up again, and on their way to the airport for one last plane ride, this time all the way across the United States to the west coast. Daddy had a hard time because Ouseman was very scared when he found out they were getting back on an airplane. He cried and wailed. And Garrison joined him, though it because he was tired more than scared. The people at the airport told Daddy that he could not get on the plane with the boys in that condition.
"Are you telling me that you are going to leave me stranded in Boston with two boys that I don't know and who don't know me because I can't get them to quit crying?!" Daddy shouted. He was very tired too.
"Sir, we cannot let the children on the plane if they can't be calm," the lady told Daddy.
Daddy called his wife, and said, "Pray!"
It was 4.00 in the morning where his wife was, and she called around, waking people up, saying, "Pray!"
A lady saw Daddy struggling with the boys, trying to calm them. She was a very smart lady, because she went into a store and bought a bunch of snack foods.
Food! The boys quit their crying long enough to get on the plane.
The plane ride was long and difficult. The boys cried. Garrison wet his clothes. They couldn't sit still for very long. But finally, the plane landed in Portland, and Daddy put Garrison on his shoulders, and grabbed Ouseman by the hand, and led them out of the plane.
There was a woman waiting for them. She was trying not to cry, but Ouseman didn't care about her.He was just keeping a tight hold on Daddy's hand. The woman reached out and took Garrison off of Daddy's shoulders.
"Where's his shirt? And his shoes?" she asked.
"Don't ask," said Daddy.
The woman took out a coat and put it on Ouseman. He had never had a coat before. It felt nice. But then the lady took it off again, and said it didn't fit. Ouseman hung onto the coat while the lady put a different red coat on him.
"There," she said. "That fits better. Now let me have this green one and I'll put that on Garrison."
But Ouseman would not let go of the coat. He liked the green coat. And he liked the red coat. He wanted them both. Garrison didn't need one. He pulled and the lady pulled. He could see she looked shocked and a little frustrated, but he was not going to give her the coat.
Finally, Daddy came over and firmly took the coat from Ouseman and gave it back to the lady. She tried to put it on Garrison, but Ouseman kept grabbing the coat. He was very angry. They had given him a coat and taken it away again. It was his coat. Garrison was not going to wear his coat.
Daddy was very firm with Ouseman, as the lady finished dressing Garrison for the very cold weather outside. Finally, things were calmed down. Daddy took the two boys and stood them in front of the lady.
"Boys," he said, "this is Mommy."
Ouseman scooted closer to Daddy and turned his eyes away from the woman. He did not care who she was. He knew he probably didn't like her much, but really the lady did not matter to him. All he knew was that she had just taken one of his brand new coats away from him!
He would stick with Daddy from here on out.
The next few months were exciting and sad for Ouseman. His Daddy had given him a new name: Solomon Meade Souza. His middle name was the same as Daddy's, and that made Ouseman proud. And he liked the sound of his new name. But he liked his old name too, and wanted to have both names.
But Daddy told him no. Daddy said that Ouseman was another name for One-Eye. So that meant that Ouseman's name was really One-Eye One-Eye. That didn't make sense to Ouseman, but Daddy said it was so. Daddy said that One-Eye was not the name for the kind of man that Ouseman was going to be, so Daddy chose a name that would fit the man he would be some day. Solomon.
Solomon had known that he would have a new name in America. His mother and grandmother had practiced the name with him so it wouldn't be strange. Daddy had also changed Garrison's name, because Daddy didn't want Solomon to feel alone in this new thing. Garrison's new name was Jumoke. He was named after Daddy too. But Garrison often forgot and called Solomon by his old name. It made Solomon sad when Garrison did that because it made Solomon miss Liberia. So he made sure to get mad at Garrison and tell Garrison to remember his own name and quit using the old names.
Solomon loved Daddy. He felt safe with Daddy. The only problem with Daddy was that Daddy had too many children, so Daddy couldn't be with Solomon as much as Solomon wished. Solomon followed Daddy around all the time, and if one of the children came too close to Daddy, Solomon would start laughing loud or grab Daddy around the leg or put his face right up to Daddy's, so that Daddy could not see anyone but Solomon.
Solomon did not like all the children. There were too many. He tried to tell Daddy this at dinner one night.
"You got too many kids," Solomon said to Daddy.
"I've got just the right amount of kids," Daddy said.
"No," said Solomon. "You got too many. At least, you got too many girls"
Solomon didn't like girls as a matter of principal, but he did like his sister, Molly. Molly was 7 years old, just like him. And Molly was gentle and quiet and kind and had very long blond hair. Solomon liked to sit right next to her, as close as he could, and rub her arm or her face or stroke her hair. She was so beautiful to him. After a while, Daddy told Solomon that he must not sit so close to Molly, and must not touch her so much. Daddy said that in America that kind of thing can make people uncomfortable.
"But Molly like it," Solomon told Daddy. "It don' bother her."
"Molly is kind and friendly," said Daddy. "But even if she doesn't ask you to stop, I'm telling you to stop. You can sit by her, and be friends, but you must not be touching her all the time. It is not what American boys do."
For a moment, Solomon was sad. But he loved Daddy so much that he knew Daddy must be right. He still sat as close to Molly as he dared, and still reached out from time to time to touch her hair or her hand, but Daddy never said anything more. Solomon learned that in America, people aren't as free with each other's bodies as they were in Liberia.
Solomon liked his older brother, Jacob, too. Jacob was 8, and played fun games and had good ideas and laughed at Solomon's jokes. If Solomon couldn't be with Daddy or Molly, he would be with Jacob. His new world had three people he loved.
He didn't love the little children. Especially Jumoke. The little children bothered him because people always thought that he was one of the little children too, because he was so small. But he was older than them, and resented being treated as their equal. At home, he was the eldest son. These little children did not treat him with the respect he deserved. And Jumoke just made Solomon plain mad. Jumoke would not obey Daddy and Mama and he broke things and hurt kids. Jumoke was the only other person in this family with black skin, and whenever Jumoke was naughty, Solomon felt like Daddy thought that Solomon was naughty too.
Solomon wanted white skin so that people, especially Daddy and Molly and Jacob, would not think that he was like Jumoke. Solomon just wished that Jumoke would quit being so naughty and mean and making Solomon look bad.
And Solomon didn't love Mama. She was not proud and beautiful like his mama in Liberia. She was not even pretty. She laughed a lot. But she told Solomon "No" a lot, too.
She made him lots of food, but her food was bland, tasteless. She always made rice and a meat for him, but there was no flavor to her food. At first it didn't bother him. He was so glad to have food. But after his tummy started being used to being full, he was disappointed that Mama couldn't cook better. After he was older, one of the aunts gave him his own bottle of tobasco sauce to use as he liked, and he put it on everything...even his oatmeal.
Mama made sure he had good clothes. He loved having so many clothes, and such handsome ones too. But Mama would not let him wear what he wanted to wear when he wanted to wear it. He wanted to wear his most handsome clothes everyday, but Mama said those clothes were only for Sunday and not to play in.
It seemed like all Mama did was tell him "No".
Daddy had shown Solomon how to use a toilet. Solomon was very proud that he knew how. But sometimes he got mixed up. There were many white things, and some of them had holes in them. Mama would get frustrated whenever he went teetee in the wash machine or dryer, or sprayed the refrigerator. He got frustrated with Mama for not letting him go teetee outside...it was so much simpler that way.
But Mama said no.
And Mama said no going potty (she always called tee-tee potty) in the wash machine or dishwasher. And Mama said no waiting to go potty so long and pulling down his pants as he ran thru the house on the way to the bathroom because he always sprayed the walls in the hallway.
And that was another thing. Mama said that it wasn't ok to walk around without clothes on. The boys always laughed and the girls always screamed. Solomon thought it funny. It didn't bother him to be naked, nor to see naked people. But Mama said it wasn't appropriate, and Daddy said that Mama was right.
Mama was just always saying "No".
Mama said that Solomon couldn't eat all of his chicken. She let him at first, when he first came to America. But one time soon after he and Jumoke had come to the new home, Daddy had taken them all to a public eating place. Solomon and Jumoke ate the flesh off of their chicken, and then began crunching and eating the bones, sucking all the marrow juice out. Mama said that she would get them more chicken, but they mustn't eat the bones anymore. Solomon though Mama was a crazy lady. The bones were the best part. At least, the juice in the bones was the best part. And eating the bones made his teeth strong.
But Mama always said no.
Mama said they had to do school, but Solomon could not hold a pencil nor write with one because he never had before. He felt badly that the other children could draw pictures, yet he could not make the "s" in his name. He practiced hard, and after a few months he could write "Sol". But the practice was hard work. He did not like school. And Mama made them do school every day that Daddy was gone.
The only thing good about Mama was that she was a hard worker. Solomon liked to work too. None of the other children worked as hard as Mama and Solomon worked. He enjoyed working with Mama. She didn't talk much while she worked, except to give instruction. He like that. He could stay focused on his job and do it well. That always made him feel good. He and Mama were good workers.
One day, Mama took a basket of cloth out and started cutting it up. Solomon remembered his grandmother doing that in Liberia. Mama was sewing blankets for the children, even a special one with planets and stars from the sky just for Solomon. He watched as she lined up the materials and cut and put thick cloudy white stuff inbetween the layers. He watched as she ran the sewing machine up and down the lengths of the cloth. Sometimes he would reach out to touch the sewing machine as it ran, but Mama always took his hand in hers and said, "No. You could get hurt or damage the machine."
Mama never got tired of saying "No".
Solomon stood quietly by the machine, trying not to touch, because he was afraid Mama would get frustrated and send him away to play. He loved to watch her make the cloth into warm blankets. He liked watching the wheel go around and the needle go up and down. He loved listening to the hum of the machine. It reminded him of his Nanna back in Liberia, tho she did not have a beautiful machine that ran by itself.
He waited and waited and watched and watched until Mama was finally finished with his blanket. He took it and put it on his bed. It was his very own blanket.
After Solomon had been in his new home for a few weeks, the excitement began to give way to a longing for home, for Liberia. He would cry quietly at night, taking care that no one heard him. His heart was very sad. He was always glad when the morning came so he could play and work and forget about Liberia.
But night always came again.
Soon, he could not hold in his grief any longer. If he got into trouble or someone made him sad or mad, he would begin to wail. A long, loud, ear-splitting wail. His uncle called it "The Liberian Wail". His uncle's children from Liberia cried this way too.
Solomon would go to his room and sit on his bed or on his floor, and rock back and forth and lift his face to the ceiling and wail, long and loud. Hour after hour, Solomon would sit and rock and wail.
Daddy did not like it when Solomon cried like that. The first time he heard it, he told Solomon to cry quietly. Solomon tried, but the big cries would not stop. Daddy ordered Solomon to calm down, but Solomon did not know how to make it stop.
Mama came to talk to Daddy.
"Can we please just let him cry?" she asked Daddy.
"He's disturbing the whole household," Daddy said. "He's scaring the other children."
"But I think maybe he needs to cry," said Mama. "I think he misses his mama. Can I just close the door and sit with him and let him cry?"
"The neighbors might call the police," Daddy said. "He is crying awfully loud."
"Then we will just explain to the police," Mama replied. "I know they will understand."
Daddy let Mama go in with Solomon and shut the door after her. She held Solomon in her lap and rocked him as he cried and wailed. At first, Solomon tried to hold his body as far away from Mama as he could. But Mama just kept rocking and rubbing his head. Solomon did not like Mama to be a part of his grief. She knew nothing about his broken world. She always told him no and did not know how to cook good food. He did not want Mama to be part of his grief.
But she did let him cry. And she did not leave him.
After many days sitting in her lap or by her side, having Mama rock him and rub his head while he wailed out his misery, he began to lay his head against Mama's chest as he grieved. He let her rock him without pulling away from her.
Solomon did not want to share his grief with Mama. He wanted to handle it himself. He told her so over and over again, but she would not listen. Sometimes Mama listened good, like when he told her stories about Liberia and his old home. But sometimes Mama had no ears.
Solomon let Mama rock him.
Solomon rocked and wailed and thought his insides would burst with longing.
Though Solomon still cried quietly at night, the longing soon left his heart and he didn’t feel like he needed to cry hard during the day. Sometimes he would wail if it had been a hard day, but it wasn’t as hard, because the sad or mad wasn’t all mixed up with missing Liberia.
Solomon loved having things of his own. Daddy and Mama gave him toys. He liked looking at them. Mama gave him a police car that made lots of noise, and he liked hearing the noise over and over and over again. It gave him pleasure. But what he really liked was taking his new things and packing them in a drawer that Mama had given for just him. He closed the drawer, and rarely ever opened it to look at the toys. It was enough that the things belonged only to him.
Besides, if he were foolish enough to keep the things out, Jumoke would break them, like he broke other people’s things. That boy was just out to make trouble for Solomon!
Daddy bought Solomon a bicycle. Solomon loved watching the other children ride their bikes, and he wanted to ride his bike with them. But bikes are very difficult things. He told the bike over and over what it should do, but it wouldn’t listen to him. He practiced every day. Sometimes he saw Mama looking out the kitchen window, watching him. It made him embarrassed for her to see him falling all the time.
But one day, the bike didn’t tip and Solomon didn’t fall. He kept going. And going. And Mama saw him through the kitchen window. She came outside on the patio and started jumping and screaming because she was so happy. All of the children came running to see why Mama was screaming. When they saw Solomon riding his bike, they clapped and yelled too. Even Jumoke couldn’t keep his face from smiling for Solomon, tho he wouldn’t clap his hands for him.
That was one of Solomon’s best days.
Daddy made Solomon’s life feel safe. Solomon could not remember ever having felt safe before. Daddy was strict with the kids. He made Solomon say “Yes, Daddy” and “Yes, Mama” when Daddy and Mama spoke to him. He made the children be quiet in bed and made the children respect Mama when she was teaching them manners at the table.
Solomon did not respect Mama in his heart. She was a woman, and he was the eldest son. Well, he wasn’t the eldest son in America, but he had been in Liberia. Mama did not show proper respect for Solomon’s position.
Daddy made Solomon respect Mama on the outside.
Daddy let Solomon help him make things. One time, Solomon was holding a board for Daddy while Daddy drilled. Daddy drilled that drill right into Solomon’s palm. Solomon tried not to cry, but he couldn’t help it. Mama was mad at Daddy, and Daddy looked very sad. There was only a little bit of skin taken off his palm, but it hurt a little badly.
Solomon didn’t want Daddy to feel sad, and mostly, Solomon didn’t want Daddy to work without him. He told Mama it didn’t hurt much, and Daddy told Mama that things like this happen when men work together, and he would be more careful in the future, then Daddy kissed Mama and Mama hugged Daddy, and Solomon and Daddy went back out and started working with the drill again.
After that, nobody got drilled.
Many things improved over the months. Solomon learned to like the younger children. He learned to not let Jumoke embarrass him when Jumoke was naughty. He learned that Mama and Daddy liked Solomon just fine all by himself.
One night, Jumoke was talking about going back to Liberia. Mama told Jumoke that he could go back when he was a grown man, but until then, he needed to stay with Mama. Jumoke was not happy with Mama.
Solomon went over to Daddy, who was sitting on the couch. He leaned over and said in a low voice, “I don’t want to go back to Liberia. I stay here, and you send Jumoke back!”
Daddy laughed and hugged Solomon and told Solomon that Jumoke was stuck with his new family.
Solomon learned to like Mama’s food. He liked it best when she served spicy food, but for an American cook, Mama wasn’t too bad. Sometimes Mama would spice things up just for him. He would close his eyes and look up to heaven and say “mmmmmm” with a satisfied smile on his face. Everyone would laugh. He loved it when everyone laughed. He always laughed the loudest because he loved laughter so much.
Solomon settled in, and learned many things. He learned songs at church and he learned about Jesus. He had never heard of Jesus before. He didn’t believe that Jesus was real, and he liked Abraham Lincoln more that Jesus, but he still enjoyed church.
Mama told many stories to the children. She told stories about Liberia and Charles Taylor and Solomon’s new hero, George Bush. One time, Mama told the children that many people did not like George Bush. This did not make sense to Solomon, even tho Mama explained it many different ways. How could people not like this man who saved little boys by sending away the bad man who wanted to kill mamas and daddies? Sometimes, American people were not very smart.
Solomon learned to put legos together. At first, he couldn’t think of anything to make. It didn’t take long before he began catching on. He woke up every morning thinking of legos, and spent every moment Mama would allow building legos. He began to make amazing things.
There were many very good things in Solomon’s life. And the things that weren’t so good, like Jumoke making trouble for him, Solomon learned to live with. Daddy and Mama told him all the time that he made a very good Souza.
One thing that Solomon just could not live with…a thing that hung over his head every day and made him miserable…was school. Mama worked alone with him every day. She made up games that Sol liked. She cheered and clapped when Solomon seemed to make some progress.
But nothing ever stuck in his head. The next day, he always forgot what he had learned the day before.
It took many months to learn the names of the letters, but he always forgot a few of them. It took only a few days to learn to write a “1”, but many, many months to write a “2”. Mama seemed frustrated that she could not help him even get started with kindergarten work. She took him to an ophthalmologist who told her that Solomon’s eyes could see just fine, even tho they were almost all the way closed. Mama was so sad and frustrated for Solomon that she asked Daddy to try to teach Solomon.
Daddy couldn’t teach him either. Daddy tried, but Solomon still couldn’t remember anything he learned. Mama couldn’t understand it. She would say, “How can a child who can make great Lego creations and knows how to build a fire and cook over it not be able to learn letters?”
This was the only hard thing in Solomon’s new life. School was not working for him, and he had so much wanted to learn to read, and do the same work that Jacob did. Instead of doing the same work as his big brother who was only one year older, he was doing work with his little brother, who was five years younger. This made Solomon feel miserable.
Mostly things were good in this home. Mostly Solomon was happy.
But every day when Daddy was gone, there was still school to deal with.
And every night, there was still the sadness inside him that made him cry quietly into his pillow so Mama wouldn’t hear.
Even tho Solomon was legally adopted by his new family through the Liberian courts, he adoption was not yet completed. His adoption still need to be submitted to a court in America and finished in his new country.
Daddy told Solomon that they were going to go to court to finish up the adoption. Solomon was very quiet when Daddy told him this. Mama tried to talk to Solomon, but he was still feeling very stubborn about trying to deal with things himself. Mama knew Solomon was bothered by something. But she couldn't see what.
Adoption day finally came. Mama dressed all the children in their best clothes. Daddy took the day off work. Some good friends would meet them at the court to take pictures and witness this great day. It was like a wonderful celebration.
It was like a wonderful celebration to everyone but Solomon. He stayed very quiet. He didn't seem very happy.
"This is a good day," Mama said. "We've all been looking forward to it for a long time. Don't you want to be adopted?"
"Not today," Solomon said. "Can we maybe do it tomorrow?"
"No," Mama said. "The judge is a very busy man, and he said the day was today. We can't come back tomorrow, because he will be busy with other things."
"OK," Solomon said. He looked very sad. Mama felt very sad for him. She had thought that Solomon had grown to love the family and that he was happy. Now she wasn't sure.
The family drove to the courthouse. It was a beautiful summer day. The children played in the courtyard as they waited for their turn to come before the judge. Everyone was excited, running and tagging and laughing.
But Solomon stayed near Mama.
"Go play," Mama urged Solomon.
"I don't want to," Solomon said. "I want to stay by you."
"Solomon, what is going on?" Mama asked. "Why are you so sad to be adopted?"
"I just..." Solomon began to cry. "I just don't want to get on an airplane today. Airplanes scare me. And I like it here."
"I don't understand," Mama said. And then her heart burst with understanding.
"Oh, Solomon!" she exclaimed. "Do you think we are here to adopt you out to another family?"
"Yes," Solomon said, sobbing.
"Oh my! Oh my! Tim!" Mama said. "Tim, Solomon thinks we are giving him away for adoption!"
Mama reached toward Solomon to pull him toward her, but Daddy reached Solomon first. Daddy pulled Solomon up into his arms, and Daddy spoke sternly, with tears in his voice.
"Solomon, this is your adoption day. It's like you are getting married to us. It means you will be with us forever. You are not going anywhere but home with us today."
"I don't have to get on an airplane? I don't have to have another family?" Solomon asked.
Daddy and Mama had a hard time talking, because they were so sad that Solomon had thought for so many days that they were giving him away. The only other time he had heard that he was being adopted was when he was sent far away on an airplane to a new family. He thought when Daddy told him that he was being adopted that Daddy was sending him away.
After many hugs and tug-a-hugs with Mama pulling Solomon to her to hug him and Daddy pulling Solomon back to hug him some more, all the eyes were wiped, and the family turned to go to the courthouse.
The judge was very nice. He was a man who had adopted twelve children himself. He treated the adoption as tho it were a marriage ceremony, and asked Daddy and Mama many questions about taking care of the boys, and Daddy and Mama said "I do". And then he asked the other children questions about loving their new brothers, and the children all said, "I do".
The judge called Solomon and Jumoke up to him, and had them sign the adoption papers, telling them that this meant they agreed with the adoption and were glad about it. Solomon was very glad that he had learned to write "Sol". He signed his name. Then Jumoke signed his name. Then the judge asked all of the brothers and sisters to sign their names too.
Finally, the judge gave the gavel to Solomon and told him to strike the block to show that the adoption was done, forever! Solomon struck the block, not once, but twice. Then the judge handed the gavel to Jumoke, and Jumoke hammered the block as hard and fast as he could.
Solomon and Jumoke were finally and irrevocably Souzas.
Things continued to become more familiar to Solomon. He began to love to look at books, tho he couldn't read them. He learned to play games with Daddy. He and Jumoke became good friends, tho Sol still liked to play with Jacob best and Jumoke still liked Jared best. Mama measured Solomon every two months, and Solomon was glad to see he was growing. Everything seemed to be going good.
Except for school. Solomon still couldn't learn.
After many months of being frustrated with school, Mama talked to Daddy. Something must be done. Mama didn’t want to do it, but it looked like the only option left was to put Solomon in school, and see if the school could help him. Daddy said that he did not want Sol in a school until every possible door had been closed first.
Mama took Solomon to a regular eye doctor. She was hoping the doctor might tell them something to help them. The eye doctor did see something: he saw that Solomon could not see!
“I cannot see?” Solomon asked, incredulously.
“He cannot see?” Mama asked, incredulously.
“No,” said the doctor. “He cannot see. The condition of the closed lids have caused his eyelashes to grow inward toward the eye. The surface of the eye is so scratched that Solomon can see virtually nothing.”
Solomon and Mama were so happy. The eye doctor called a surgeon at a special hospital, and a date for the surgery was made. The surgeon would operate, opening Solomon’s eyes and causing the eyelashes to be like everyone else’s eyelashes…growing outward.
Daddy took Solomon to have his operation. It went well, and they came home the same day. Solomon looked very odd and little bit scary. His eyes were wide open. He could not close his eyes, even to sleep. It would be many weeks before he could close his eyes again.
After a few days, Solomon began to see things. He was very excited. It wasn’t long before he was reading books. All of the lessons that he had not been able to remember came back to him when he actually saw the letters and numbers and words.
Within the year, Solomon finished his kindergarten and first grade work, and nearly all of his second grade work.
That year was a good year in many ways. Solomon felt like an American boy. He felt like the son of his family. He was comfortable in his own skin again. He loved Dad and he loved Mom and he loved all the kids. Jumoke didn’t cause him so much trouble, because Jumoke quit causing himself so much trouble.
Solomon joined Boy Scouts when he turned 11. He was one of the guys now. After his first meeting, Solomon came home so excited.
“Mom! You wouldn’t believe it!”, he said. “There wasn’t a single girl there! It was all just us guys.”
He threw himself backward onto the couch, his arms spread out to either side.
“I just love Boy Scouts,” he said, with a goofy grin.
He still remembers Liberia. He has the framed picture of his Liberian mother hanging on his wall. He still misses her sometimes, even tho he can’t remember her very well anymore. And sometimes he still cries quietly in the night.
But mostly he’s happy. He loves being an American boy. He wants to be a soldier when he grows up.
“Mom, it’s the strangest thing,” he said. “I feel like I need to fight in wars when I grow up. It’s so strong that it feels kind of like God is calling me to fight. Like to fight for all the kids who live in bad countries under bad men. Do you think this could be true?”
“Solomon,” I said, “with you and God, anything can be true.” ©2006 All Rights Reserved. No part of this may be reproduced or copied without the author's express permission.