This story is remarkable in part because of the powerful words he spoke, and because of the impression I had of him.  Grisha is a handsome, athletic, 19 year old Russian orphan.  Last summer he was scheduled to leave the orphanage and enroll in a technical school in the city nearby.  I think he was ready.  He chose to begin training in auto mechanics.  So far, this is a normal story, at least as normal as any Russian orphan’s life ever gets.  Grisha was one of the lucky ones rescued from a troubled past and placed in the orphanage system.  He was also fortunate to be able to stay in the orphanage until he was 18. 

“I don’t need you.  I can do this all alone.”

I met Grisha several years ago when we first began visiting his orphanage.  While he was never a rude person, Grisha tended to keep his distance.  Each year we visited, he remained polite and cooperative, but communicated with his silence and distance that he preferred to be left alone.  At least that’s how it appeared, on the surface:  “I don’t need you.  I can do this all alone.” 

This year our orphan care mission team was asked to focus more on older graduates who have already been sent out of the orphanage and are now on their own.  We shifted our attention to these teenagers.  Grisha is one of them, along with about 15 others from their orphanage.  I’ll admit I was suprised to see him walk into the ministry center¹ .  Of course we were hopeful.  Before we arrived, we had asked the ministry center staff to track these kids down.  Call them, find them, invite them.  Let them know we are coming and we want to see them.  We depended entirely on the staff there to make contact with the graduates.  Now that these young people were out of the orphanage we had no way to contact any of them directly ourselves.  The ministry center staff did a great job and their diligence paid off.

Grisha Chose To Be With Us

Grisha visited us every day that week.  He chose to be with us.  No one forced him, he chose to come.  I think he enjoyed it.  We played a lot of soccer and ping pong, and talked a lot.  We ate a lot.  We laughed.  Grisha laughed!

Our final afternoon together we gathered in the large meeting room.  It was our tradition at the orphanage at the end of every visit to give everyone a chance to share something with the rest of the group, so we thought it would be good to continue this tradition at the ministry center.  We asked everyone to share something for which they are thankful.  Around the circle we talked, one by one, and we listened.  A few of the graduates thanked us for coming and caring, and a few were thankful for the ministry center.  A few chose not to share at all. 

“You did not forget us.”

Grisha talked.  Quietly, he said:  “I am thankful that you did not forget us even though we left the orphanage.  Thank you for coming back to see us.”  Everyone heard him.  The depth of his confession startled me.  This tough, jaded, independent young man spoke to the heart for all of us.  If nothing else happens when we travel across the world, at least we will show Grisha that we have not forgotten him.  We will not forget you!  Coming from one of the other, more open, graduates it might not have been so significant.  But Grisha never talked much, he did not seem to care if we visited — on the surface at least.  Below the surface, under the tough-guy veneer, I guess he cared.  He needed to know if we remembered him. 

Grisha, we remember you.  We will remember you.

© Copyright by Jeffrey Y. Harlow, Ph.D (2009).

1. For more information about Children’s Hope Chest ministry centers in Russia, check out their website: www.hopechest.org.