The Coin
For as long as I could remember my younger brother’s room was always the place our family would gather. “Katie come here!” my mom had shouted, pulling me out of my comfortable cocoon of blankets I had wrapped myself up in to enjoy a new book. As I stepped out of the blankets the cold enveloped me, sending shivers down my spine and causing my teeth to chatter together. As I made my way across the cold tile of our living room, I was struck by how quiet our house seemed. Having younger siblings, I was used to the constant sound of their shouts and feet as they ran around. But the house was set into an eerie silence, I had begun to grow anxious. As I walked into the room, my family sitting around green bins I instantly recognized as our baby boxes. To other people, they may look like boxes filled with trash, but to us, everything had meaning.
“What’s going on?” I asked my dad.
“We are going through all of the baby boxes and organizing them, so we can put them into storage.” My dad replied nonchalantly, and he helped Wenji pull out everything from the green bin labeled “Michael”. For being the youngest, only four years old, Wenji had accumulated a surprising amount of stuff. I sat down on the floor next to my bin and began to pull stuff out: The newspaper from the day I was born, a clay penguin I made in preschool, and countless pictures of me when I was younger. I had almost completed my task when I found an object that did not belong to me,but Wenji, a small chinese coin connected to wire to make a necklace. “Hey Wenj, look what I found!” I said, throwing it across the room so that it landed in front of his knees.
“What is it?” He asked me as he picks it up.
“Don't you recognise it?”
“It money? How many?”
“It’s a coin from China, Daddy put this on it for you.” I said as I show him the cord.
“I remember China; China Mommy, China babi, China brother, and China ice cream.” He said with a smile.
“Do you remember daddy giving you this coin? We got it at the Great Wall of China, in Beijing.”
As I watch the kids, climbing up on the steep narrow, steps, I stop. I’m too old for my body to take this anymore, getting to the third watch tower was high enough for me. When the kids finally came down, we stayed at the third watch tower for a while. Then headed down together, as we get to the landing we peak in the small shops set up. I spot an elderly man painting, with nothing but black ink and his fingers, he almost perfectly replicates the sight before me of the wall, looming above. I ask the guide to interpret for me and inquire at the price. I walk towards the bus feeling happy, only ten dollars for the painting I am sure my wife is going to love. As I walk onto the bus, I slide the dollar coin I received as change into my wallet.
It is early the next morning, the sun yet to break over the tops of the buildings, a slight fog settling on the streets and giving a chilled feeling to the morning. The dew hangs to my brown fleece jacket as I make my way inside the airport. After a three hour flight, we arrive in Taiyuan, The small desert city where we will meet our new son, Wu Wenji. As My family and I make our way to yet another van taking us to the hotel, I can feel the significant difference in the air, while the last city was damp and breezy, the new city was dry and arid.
The tour guide informs us that we are going straight to the adoption building, to pick up Wenji. Sitting for fifteen minutes anticipation getting the better of me I begin to become anxious. I feel it in the pit of my stomach, when the door swings open to reveal a screaming toddler. I am struck by the size of him, only seeing a picture of him at the age of one, almost two years ago now; wrapped up in layers of clothing a blue and green snowsuit being the outermost, his face turns bright red. The, now screeching, new addition to our family is handed to Jenny, who is now crying from the joy of another child. Having raised three kids through this phase, I know what to do to help calm him down just a bit. I am digging in my wallet for the coin, I know I put it in here yesterday. I’m starting to have doubts as I feel the cold metallic brush up against my index finger. Handing the coin over, I feel the sweating palms and the tiny fingers sweating clench onto the object in my hand, a familiar object in a room of strangers.
I picked my younger brother up as I recounted the story. He listened intently for the first few sentences then started to ask numerous questions. I was so happy to finish the story, nearly half of an hour after I had started; The baby boxes had been long since packed up and gone, along with the rest of my family. I soon as I had finished he lept out of my lap and informed me of his desire to play Pikmin. As I once again made my way over the cold gray tile of our living room floor, I was reminded of how fortunate I was to have such an amazing and diverse family, how different my life would be without two of my younger siblings and the silly little things that can bring back so many important family memories.