With Mark’s return from China has come a lot of questions from our oldest daughter.

Some questions that I can answer; and many I cannot. Questions about Lydia and her first family. Why questions, who are they questions, what do they look like, where do they live. Questions about the details of Lydia’s story.

“Do you think she’ll remember China and be able to tell us about it and her first family when she’s a little bit older?”

“No, honey, I don’t think so. She was too young to remember it.”

. . .

And, then she cried. She cried.

I’m not sure why it made her so sad except for the reasons it makes me sad too.

There is so much we just don’t know. I want to know, but I likely never will despite my efforts to learn more and find someone who knows something more.

I read an article today. A young college girl who was adopted from China as an infant is in China now searching for her foster family and her birth family–she’s now already found her foster family from 20 years ago. She’s gotten a lot of media attention there for her efforts. And lots of different reactions. Some support her searching and encourage her. Others like 鱼不离水 think otherwise: “I advise that you stop trying to find your birth parents. I believe that they don’t have nearly the compassion and broadmindedness of your adopted mother, or else why would they have abandoned you in the first place? Even if you find them, it will only bring them regret and humiliation. Why bother?”

Let me show you why.