Church in China, Chain at Home

We thoroughly enjoy both the families in our Guangdong group and have developed a special connection with them, but we're all a bit ready to leave now. So it was a nice diversion to welcome the other families from our agency who have arrived in Guangzhou to get their children's visas. A few of the moms I know from our agency's forum, and I loved meeting them and their children.

It was also fun exchanging tips--the hotel deli sells little rotisserie chickens, don't talk to anyone on the streets after 8 p.m., and you can get a cab to Shamian Island for about 16 yuan--and reminisce with some of them about the White Swan. (Michael, by the way, could care less where we're staying.)

Yesterday I went to a two-hour paperwork meeting, which was only slightly more fun than it sounds, and Baba and Michael hung out together wondering what on earth could take two hours to complete. I think Baba missed me more than Michael did. They were having a fine time when I returned.

 

Then because John and Michael were both well-napped (if not fully recovered), we decided to be social and join the other families for a dinner in a restaurant in the hotel. The food was quite good, though the most dramatic moment came when Michael dropped a porcelain spoon on the floor and it shattered and silenced the room.

At that point we decided it was time to make a sheepish exit, and it was only when a waitress gestured to my leg and said something in Chinese that I looked down and realized a shard of the spoon had cut my leg and it was bleeding. So we must have made a great impression with all the other adoptive parents and the wait staff, who now realize why we have been carrying out rather than eating in their lovely restaurant.

After another not-great night for sleeping--which is no one's fault except the person who gave our son this terrible cold that keeps Michael up coughing--we decided to head over to the Sacred Heart Cathedral.

We could have gone to an English Mass in the afternoon, but we really wanted Michael to nap this afternoon. So our choices were Mandarin at 8:30 or Cantonese at 10:30. 

 

We chose Mandarin for the timing of the Mass--which was unfortunate only because at least one of us might have understood the Cantonese. But John and I were able to follow along fairly well and say the prayers in English. As John said later, "I got 'amen,' 'alleluia,' and the word for Jesus."

The church was beautiful. It dates back to 1863 and it was bigger than I had expected.

The ceiling is brick, but most of the church is stone, and the Chinese people call it the stone house, I believe. John is the history person in our household, but I am the blogger, so I apologize for not including more compelling church history here.

We were amused that the church filled up quickly in the last few minutes before Mass started--that must be a universal trait--but we were also struck by the number and the reverence of the people worshiping there.

We were particularly struck by the behavior of one person in our pew.

Michael sat quietly the whole time. He didn't say a word, pointed to a lot of things, happily played with my camera case--or nothing at all. We can only hope he is this quiet for our flight home, though I think by then he will be fully comfortable with every situation and will be more vocal than we have ever seen him.

But this post is about today--not Thursday's flight. Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Michael didn't respond much to the experience, but I like that we'll be able to tell him the first time he went to church it was in China, and the Mass was in Mandarin.


We'll be able to tell him how the people exchanged the sign of peace, bowing respectfully to each other--but with big smiles for our little boy.



We can tell him about the kind lady who came over to see him before Mass, speaking enthusiastically in Chinese and grinning at Michael. We didn't need to speak Mandarin to know what she was saying--she was happy for Michael and for us and thought he was awfully cute. We thanked her and smiled back.

We'll also be able to tell Michael how when we went up for Communion, Baba was carrying him. As Baba turned to head back to our pew, the archbishop reached out to give Michael a blessing.

Michael may not have been impressed.

But it certainly made his parents happy. And one day it will interest him. It's all part of his story.

After Mass, we stopped by the Catholic bookshop and bought a few items.

Then, because we are Americans and were some of the only foreigners on site, we had adoring fans come up to take our photo and pose with us. If you've been to China, you have probably experienced this. It's a bit bizarre, but also amusing.

Now, my mother always told me that every time you visit a new church, you get to make three wishes.

What did I wish for? A three-hour flight home.

What did I get? A flyswatter sighting--and I haven't found one yet on this trip, not to buy anyway. (For those who are unaware, I collect flyswatters and found one on our Louis trip, but haven't bought one yet on our Michael trip.)

You're probably wondering what John wished for. Well, as we walked out of the church and down across the courtyard, we saw a wholesale store across the street. We figured we'd stop in and break a larger bill so we had small bills for the taxi. And surprise, surprise, it was a toy wholesale store. Baba was thrilled.

His son was even happier, especially when he saw a Pleasant Goat car. And it was so cheap we bought it. Remind me how much we saved on it when I mention in a post in a few days that we've purchased a new piece of luggage so we can carry this great bargain home.

Still, Michael loves it.

What a change from the boy who just a few days ago would only play with his stacking cups. It's hard to believe how much more of himself he shares every day.

Our baby boy who mechanically let us dress him at the beginning of the week is now trying to put his shoes on himself (without success, but he'll get there).

And he's determined to learn to drink from a water bottle--without any help from Mama and Baba.

That's our Michael.

Independent. Funny. Really into his toys. And with his own fashion sense (he loves that hat). That all reminds me of someone else I know. Someone who seems to be doing just fine while we are away.

 

Wow, photos are wonderful (thank you, Aunt Treasa!), but they make us miss Michael's big brother even more. We're counting down with Louis...

...to the day when this boy...

...meets this one.

And, in case you were wondering, Louis has cut a few more links on that chain since the photo was taken. We fly out on Thursday and arrive home Thursday night.

We're going to soak up as much of China--and of this special time with Michael--before we go. But we're also really ready to get home to Louis, to life as a family of four, and to that house of ours that we hope is still standing after an earthquake and a hurricane. Anyone up for a blizzard on Thursday?