
Prayer Requests… Please pray for all of the children at the orphanage and for the orphanage personnel.
A hub for supporters of Sovietsk Orphanage in Kirov, Russia. Here you will find updates, travel journals, child information, and photos. Welcome!

We commonly begin our second day of a trip by waking up in Kirov City after spending the night on the train from Moscow. We're met at the train station by the local HopeChest staff, led by one of the nicest la
dies in Russia, Olga. This first full day is usually relatively easy so as to acclimate to the time change and the surroundings. We check into a nice hotel, Gastinitsa Tsentralnya (that just means Central Hotel) and take a much needed shower before heading out for some food, acculturation, and buying supplies for the coming visit to Sovietsk. We spend some time walking around Kirov City. In the past, we've visited a beautiful Orthodox church within walking distance of the hotel. There is a department store where we buy the supplies we need for the orphanage (a quite interesting experience
in itself). We can exchange our dollars for rubles there, too. Our team will get together and review the plans for the week and make any additional preparations. In the evening, we have a nice meal either at the hotel or at a nearby restaurant--last year we heard some pretty solid jazz at a local club, a pleasant surprise! The important part is getting some sleep before the real adventure begins. Next, we'll tell you about what it's like when we first get to the orphanage. Stay tuned.
In the chapter called "Skin Hunger," we read of Laura, a little girl who was literally wasting away. She had plenty of food--she was on a high-calorie feeding tube diet--but her body could not metabolize the food because of emotional neglect. It is like a human runt syndrome. Without nurture and stimulation, the body's growth hormone shuts off. She was 26 pounds at age 4.
What I find extremely fascinating is that Laura's mother, Virginia, was truly doing everything she knew to nurture Laura. She knew to feed her, bathe her, change her. But she didn't know to hold her, sing to her, smile at her. She didn't know how to experience love herself, so she didn't know how to share it with her daughter.
Virginia had no attachment at infancy--she was moved from home to home until the age of 5, well after her brain had been 'programmed' with how human relationships work. Virginia never experienced the repeated, patterned stimuli children need to learn emotional give and take or empathy. She didn't even learn to associate human contact with joy. However, from ages 5-18, she lived with a kind, caring family who taught her strong values and moral direction. Her cognitive brain developed with an understanding of right from wrong, but her emotional foundation was weak and incomplete.
The hope in this is that with proper intervention, Virginia learned to give Laura what she needs. Laura grew into a healthy young woman. But as Dr. Perry says, the scars for both of them remain. Dr. Perry tells us that if a child doesn't learn a new language before puberty, the child will speak the new language with an accent--the brain cannot accommodate the information as completely as it could have at an earlier developmental stage. He says the same for Laura and Virginia--while they have learned how to smile and relate in social situations, their natural language is more withdrawn, reserved, even sad.
This guides our work at Sovietsk. Some of these children experienced attachments as infants, some never have. Some have experienced pain and fear that I can never understand. Most of them missed some important emotional developmental milestones, and they've had to learn to function with pieces of themselves missing. Those who grow up to have relationships and families of their own may find themselves lost in a foreign language--they truly, honestly do not know what so many of us feel as natural and fundamental. They speak the language of love with an accent, if they can learn the language at all.
When we go, we hope to expand their love vocabularies. We look them in the eye. We touch them gently and appropriately--no violation or threat involved. We respect them unconditionally, simply for being who they are. We are patient when they struggle with conversation, we remember that they are learning to navigate a new world. We listen when they finally can share. We just love them. We cannot fill the void in their hearts and minds, but we pray to the one who can. And we hope, hope, hope they gain enough understanding to find a way to love again, even just enough, so their children can experience what they have missed.
Photo Credit: David Madison