They don't have to be a special order of brown eyes, black hair, brown skin, plum-colored glasses and a perfect smile.
I thought of this today when I was listening to a fav podcast of mine. The subject was the unexpected topic of adoption. Apparently November is national adoption month.
I'm not adopted, neither am I in the position to adopt. I want to get married one day and have kids of my own - hopefully twins - a boy and girl (that way I can just go through childbirth once). But I have thought about adoption as something I could see myself possibly doing one day, whether I have my own kids or not.
My muse? "Slumdog Millionaire."
I love bollywood movies and the Indian culture in general, so I was really excited to rent this film a year or so ago. Yet it's a film I'm afraid to watch again. Don't get me wrong, I loved it. But after the intense roller coaster drama, followed by the happily-ever-after-song-dance-ending, I sat on my living room floor starring at the TV screen for some time in a heavy sadness. I was thinking about the Indian orphans in the film - their rough street life, the circumstances they had been dealt yet didn't ask for. It made me want to hop on a plane and save a life - to give one of those little ones a better existence.
I thought about all that when I heard the podcast today.
It doesn't really matter if a child ends up in a home where nobody looks like them, in a neighborhood far removed. What matters is that he or she has a home to go to - and a family that loves the child as if he or she was from their own DNA.
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