gi saves iraqi in long-shot adoption

i read this article on msn.com today and it really caught me offguard. at this point in my life, i’m not sure how i feel about war. i respect and am thankful for the men and women who fight for our country and for our freedom. i really do. but i just don’t know how i feel about the concept of war in and of itself.

but i do know how i feel about adoption. it is a beautiful thing and it moves me. something deep inside my soul resonates with it. i cannot wait to adopt my own children someday soon.

many of my friends have adopted or are in the process of adopting right now, so it’s a topic that is discussed among us on a frequent basis. each adoption journey is different and unique… some take longer than others… some are more expensive… some are domestic and others are international… some are infants and some are older children… and few are of the caucasian race.

i love the diversity of each story. but i never thought i’d hear one like this:

MAUSTON, Wis. – Capt. Scott Southworth knew he’d face violence, political strife and blistering heat when he was deployed to one of Baghdad’s most dangerous areas. But he didn’t expect Ala’a Eddeen.

Ala’a was 9 years old, strong of will but weak of body — he suffered from cerebral palsy and weighed just 55 pounds. He lived among about 20 kids with physical or mental disabilities at the Mother Teresa orphanage, under the care of nuns who preserved this small oasis in a dangerous place.

Police found Ala’a abandoned on a Baghdad street at around 3 years old. No one knows where he came from.

On Sept. 6, 2003, halfway through his 13-month deployment, Southworth and his military police unit paid a visit to the orphanage. They played and chatted with the children; Southworth was talking with one little girl when Ala’a dragged his body to the soldier’s side.

Black haired and brown eyed, Ala’a spoke to the 31-year-old American in the limited English he had learned from the sisters. He recalled the bombs that struck government buildings across the Tigris River.

“Bomb-Bing! Bomb-Bing!” Ala’a said, raising and lowering his fist.

“I’m here now. You’re fine,” the captain said.

Over the next 10 months, the unit returned to the orphanage again and again. The soldiers would race kids in their wheelchairs, sit them in Humvees and help the sisters feed them.

To Southworth, Ala’a was like a little brother. But Ala’a — who had longed for a soldier to rescue him — secretly began referring to Southworth as “Baba,” Arabic for “Daddy.”

Then, around Christmas, a sister told Southworth that Ala’a was getting too big. He would have to move to a government-run facility within a year.

“Best case scenario was that he would stare at a blank wall for the rest of his life,” Southworth said.

To this day, he recalls the moment when he resolved that that would not happen.

“I’ll adopt him,” he said.

such a beautiful story. read the rest here.