However, there are still nine days…nine days to make the most of. Nine days to continue learning. Nine days to keep growing. Nine days to spend with amazing people. Nine days to enjoy the Baltic. Nine days to speak in Lithuanian. Nine days to live one at a time.
This afternoon, I went to the children’s hospital again to visit Domantas. I checked in at the reception desk and went upstairs to his unit. When I stopped at the desk to tell his nurse that I was there, she paused for a moment and searched for the right words. After a couple minutes of nervous waiting, I was relieved to here her say, “He go home.” As I went past reception again on my way out, the receptionist (who, by now, knows who I am and who I come to visit) asked me why I was leaving so soon. I couldn’t think of a full sentence to explain it, so I said, “Sveikas.” This means, “He’s healthy.” She responded by asking me if he had gone home (which was a phrase I understood), and I replied, “Taip.” (Yes.) She smiled, I thanked her for her help, and continued on my way. I was excited to know that he was well enough to be released this morning but I couldn’t stop pondering the nurse’s words… “He go home.” My first thought was, “Home. Hmm…that’s not his home.” I can’t even explain exactly why, but the wording just made me sad. To me, home means so much more than the place one dwells. I understand that I am a native English speaker with context for all of my words and the nurse’s English was very limited. But these were the thoughts on my heart. On the positive side, Domantas is no longer alone in the hospital room. He at least has the companionship of the other children in the orphanage. Also, I will get to see him one more time when I go for my last day at the orphanage on Wednesday. I just keep praying that God blesses him with a loving, Christian family and home.