There are a lot of sounds in an orphanage of 300 children. Some rooms of toddlers are full of chaotic noise of toys crashing together, pots of porridge being banged with spoons, crying by little ones who just got bumped or felt ignored, ayis chatting away in Mandarin to each other and to children. All the noise echoed in the hallways off tiled floors and bare walls, making it seem much louder than it should. Other rooms seemed to be missing sound altogether. Children in those rooms lay quietly on the floor. Ayis sat beside them folding towels that serve as cloth diapers. The absence of noise in those places seemed to create a chaos in and of itself. They made me long for music, just a quiet melody to fill the quiet with something beautiful.

My heart let out a sigh when we were led to this place.

Here, a local woman comes every Friday morning from 9am until 10:30am. She pulls up a stack of papers where little socked feet can rest. And, she shows little fingers where to touch little keys and teaches little eyes to read little symbols on a page. She receives no compensation for what she does; she just comes on her own volition. The orphanage has no budget for piano lessons. And, there in the middle of the chaotic noise and chaotic silence, she helps little people create beautiful melodies all their own.

In that moment of hearing a simple tune played by a few tiny little fingers with a few obvious mistakes, it was if I heard a perfect symphony, and I applauded when it ended in kind.

There’s always something beautiful if we look for it. There’s always hope, always something to admire and always something that leads us to say, “There is good here. He is good here.”

It was a 100-page labor of love. For months, I had been collecting the updates and, in the end, 50 families contributed to it. I had asked them for their son or daughter’s Chinese name and the name they go by now, a referral picture or a picture from their adoption trip, a handful of current pictures, and a few sentences of an update. I took all of those and put them together in one place, in the form of a hardback book of redemptive stories, to present to the director of adoptions, a man who could be seen in many of those adoption day pictures.

When the orphanage directors hosted a feast for the team, I presented gifts for all 12 of the orphanage directors…

…and then presented what proved to be the most significant gift of all–the update book.

Mr. B literally spent several minutes looking at every page. He would look at the oldest picture of the child, covering up his or her name to quiz himself and then say it aloud. He knew every. single. child. in. that. book. Not only could he name them all correctly, he clearly knew details about each one.

How are his legs now? His feet were bad.

He had marks on his hands. Are they still there?

She was so active! Is she naughty for her parents?

Is her heart all healed now? She needed a serious surgery we couldn’t give her.

I didn’t have most of the answers, but I offered what I could. Every piece of information I could give was clearly treasured as if every word of news was a gift to him.

He told me that he has “short love,” that he only gets to love them for a short time but that he knows he is doing a good job when he sees their pictures and knows they have “happy lives” and “a future.” He keeps the update books in his office and he has the children’s pictures prominently displayed so that they are the first thing he sees when he walks into the room so that he “remembers why this job is so good.” He explained that many Chinese people do not understand foreign adoption. Some do not “think it is good” and “have many questions about it.” When they come to the orphanage, he takes them in his office and shows them the update books and shows them the pictures and says, “you cannot argue with these pictures. Look at their happiness. Look at all the good.”

In between his words to me, all passing through my translator, he spoke gently to the boys who he had invited to join us for dinner. The older boy has a family (yay!), one we got to introduce to him through pictures for the first time only the day before. He’s a little scared about being adopted, but he knows it’s the best thing for him and that it’s going to be good. The younger boy’s file will be available soon, and he’s a lot more scared. The day before when I spoke with him, he was digging his heels in a little and wasn’t willing yet to believe it was the best idea. So, the directors brought them to dinner on their own accord, knowing that time spent with us would be good for them.

As Mr. B spoke to the younger boy, the other director smiled at me and nodded–no translation was needed for our exchange. I knew what was happening but asked our translator to confirm.

Look at this boy’s smile. Look at this boy’s family. Oh, and look at this one too. Look how happy he is. See this child? This could be you.

By the time the last page was turned, the young boy spoke and the directors both nodded and laughed.

What did he just say? Somebody tell me what he just said.

Okay, I want to be adopted. But, I want to live near CG. Can I live near him?

YES. Progress.

I knew the updates were a good idea. I had seen on previous trips how much they blessed the staff. I had watched as ayis crowded around the book. I had seen one run quickly away for tissues and to hide her tears. I had heard their joyful laughter when they saw the pictures of a child they had loved looking older, wearing nice clothes, riding a bike, sitting on a horse, holding the hands of their American parents. What I HAD NOT seen before was how the staff had used the updates to education Chinese people on what international adoption is and how the staff had used the updates to nurture children, to help them understand what adoption looks like and to help them prepare emotionally for the overwhelming change that adoption is for them.

Those 50 families–my own family included–hoped the ayis who cared for their child would enjoy seeing the pictures and reading the English words. But, the impact they made by contributing to that book was multiplied exponentially and we got to see just a glimpse of it.