I was born in Ipotesti, Romania. As I recall my days in Romania, I vividly remember all the beautiful colors, the lush green rolling hills and the beautiful scenery. My favorite time of year was winter because I loved playing in the snow. I lived with my father in a humble little home with two rooms. We slept and ate in the same room – the only room with a stove. We never used the other room because there was no heat in there and the winters were bitter cold. Even at my young age I knew my father was very sick. He was weak and often spent his time in bed. He was worn down and broken, a sick, old man left to take care of his only daughter. Just before her 40th birthday, my mother gave birth to me, her only daughter. Then two years later, she was gone. I was only 2 ½ years old. She passed away when she was 42 years old, too young to die. Our life was hard. My father had a meager income, living off of an agricultural allowance of less than $1 a day. Food was scarce. Around the time I was 7 ½ years old, a neighbor friend, Niculina became very instrumental in my adoption. I remember her so well. She was an angel sent from God to protect me and make sure that I was fed. Even after 18 years, I have never forgotten her face. She was gentle and kind. My father was nearing his death bed and did not have the means to keep taking care of me. An adoption was the best possible option at giving me a better life, a life with a future. My older brothers were not living at home at the time. There was a significant age gap between us. One was 20 and the other was 22. Niculina orchestrated the adoption process. I remember on the day I was supposed to leave, she gave me a bath and made sure I was nice and clean. Then she gave me new clothes to wear. I thought it was the most beautiful clothing I had ever owned. I left wearing a brown plaid dress with heavy dark brown stockings, brown dress shoes that were too big for me, a bright turquoise sweater and one of Niculina’s red flowered scarves to cover my hair. I was headed to America with only the clothes on my back.
Several times I have tried to search on my own for my Romanian ancestry and family. I did not remember how to speak Romanian anymore, and I no longer remembered anyone’s names. In 2007, just before Thanksgiving I decided to pull out my little folder that held the little information I had. On a sheer whim, I posted a question on Yahoo Answers asking if anyone knew how to do genealogy work with regards to Romania. No sooner had I posted it, that a lady named Karen answered me. She had been doing genealogy work herself, but hers pertained to Romanian immigrants. However, she did find a website for me and told me to check it out. I clicked on the website and was shocked at what I saw – a website dedicated to the village where I was born and grew up. I could not believe it. This woman had a website all about my little village. She was born in Romania but has been living in Paris since the 70’s. Her name was Maritza. I got brave and e-mailed her on Nov 27th. She responded back that same day and said that she would call and ask all of her friends. Later she e-mailed me and told me that her cousins knew me. In fact one of her cousins had given me my immunizations. She knew all about me. Her cousin was going to go try to meet my brothers to tell them all about me. The next day she told me that my brothers had been located and told my story. They were living in the same house I grew up in. All of my aunt, uncles and cousins in Ipotesti had also been notified. My old neighbor friend, Niculina had also been contacted. Each day Maritza was sending me more e-mails with more information. More family was being contacted each day. Through the blessing of the internet, not only was I being reunited with my family, but I was finally able to see them on the webcam. Many years have passed. We have all changed and aged, but their sweet faces remain the same as I remember them. I cannot begin to describe the emotions I was feeling. To see my dear brothers for the first time in 18+ years was a miracle. I never thought I would see them again. To see Niculina again brought back so many memories of her. In so many ways she was such a mother figure to me, trying to provide me with what I was missing. My brothers wept. I wept. Niculina wept. I think we were all crying tears of great joy.
My aunt Albina (my mother’s sister) has been searching for me since the day I left. I was told that special permission had to be given by Albina for the adoption to proceed. She agreed that I should be adopted and told Niculina to move forward. During the adoption process Albina decided that she would rather try to take care of me herself. She traveled to Bucharest (the capitol and over 8 hours away by bus) but I was already gone. She has not stopped trying to search for me. In fact, 2 years before we were reunited, she went on a TV show in Romania that reunites families to try to find me. They were not able to find me. That was her last attempt. Here she is 2 years later and someone knocks on her door. My cousin, Vasile (my father’s nephew) went to Suceava to tell Albina about me. I cannot imagine the feelings she must have felt when he told her that I had been found. Not long after that, Albina and I saw each other on the webcam. She cried the whole time. I cried. She kept saying how much she has missed me. She had held on to some of my belongings in hopes of seeing me someday. She has outlived almost everyone in her entire family. All that remains is her and her brother. I can’t help but feel that she’s been waiting for me.
During my reunion process, I was finally able to see a photo of my mother for the very first time. I was also able to see a photo of myself as a baby for the very first time. At that time my baby boy was about 5 months old. When I saw that baby photo of myself, I was shocked and happy to see that my little 5 month old boy looked just like me in my baby photo. Something simple and small to many, but I cried because I was so happy to see a baby photo of myself.
When I think about how all of this came about, I always think to myself ‘For such a time as this’. This was the right time for me in my life to be reunited with my family. God performed miracles and I cannot deny it. I tend to be a very shy and private person. I never talked about Romania. Not because I didn’t want to, but because it was always so dear to me and brought a multitude of emotions. But I feel like now is the time to share my story. God didn’t perform miracles in my life so that I could hide behind my protective walls. I can’t be scared or shy to talk about it. This is a miracle. Miracles exist. I know it. I have witnessed them. And by the grace of God, He has performed miracles in my life. My story doesn’t end here. In fact, this is just the beginning.
Here I am an adult, a wife and a mother and I still long for home. I am a little girl whose heart still longs to return home again. I am a little girl who is finding her way back to Romania.
I am a little girl on a journey.
