Elena was waiting for us at the train station in Galati. Dad and I were about the only ones who got off the train there. Most of the other passengers had gotten off at the other stops along the way. As I remember it was about a four or five hour train ride from Bucharest to Galati with many stops along the way. Still feeling like I was in an old time movie and running on fumes, dad and I managed to get all the boxes and bags outside to the front loading area of the small train station. Elena spoke perfect English, and instructed me to wait there, asking dad to follow her to get the car, and they would be back to pick me up. The parking lot was finely crushed gravel, I can still hear the crunch of their shoes as they walked away from me.

Almost immediately, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I looked to my left, just in time to see a man dressed in a black overcoat and fedora type hat duck behind one of the large Roman columns that spanned across the front of the train station. The fear I felt was the kind of adrenalin rush that screams "fight or flight"! I had no idea who this man was, but immediately called for them wait for me. I ran down the cement stairs, leaving all the boxes and bags stacked where they were. The cars were parked a small distance away from the building, but far enough away that I didn't feel safe being all alone so close to this dark, evil man lurking in the shadows. Elena hollered back for me to just wait there, but there was no way I was staying there alone. I ran to them, and briefly explained that a man in black was watching us behind the column. Somehow he was able to conceal himself as dad quickly walked back with me to secure our belongings. I saw a brief movement from the corner of my eye, but then Elena was there with the car, we were loaded in, and driving away. The sense of relief was tangible. She explained the secret police where everywhere, that we needed to be careful, and not draw attention to ourselves. I have no idea who he was, what he wanted, or what could have happened. I only know I felt a palpable presence of evil, and that somehow he wanted to do us harm. My appreciation for the safety, and security we take for granted here in the United States of America grew by leaps and bounds each day.

Elena was a pediatrician in Romania, but was looking to come to America as soon as possible. In order to do this, she explained it would be difficult for her to escape the country, but that she had a plan. She would need to start from scratch on being a doctor here in the states, as her board certification from Romania would not be accepted here. Elena’s eyes shone with the Light of Christ, and I knew she would accomplish whatever she set out to do. In the meantime, she would do all within her power to help the children of Romania.

Elena delivered us back to the apartment of Lucci and Manoli who lived on the ground floor of a large cement apartment building many stories high, commonly seen in Soviet bloc countries.

She apologized for the condition of our accommodations, as they were not as nice as she would have hoped for us. Elena is the daughter of Rodika. Rodika was a widow, but lived with Val's brother Nic in Galati. It was intended for us to originally stay in one of Nic and Rodika's apartments. They each had one of their own, but lived mostly at Rodika's. Elena explained it was not safe for us to stay at either one of Nic or Rodika's apartments. Just a couple days earlier, the secret police had come and searched both apartments while Catherine Wilson had been staying there.

They made a huge mess. Nic, Rodika and Elena were fearful there could be trouble, and so decided to have us stay at Rodika's brother's tiny apartment instead. I couldn’t help but wonder and worry about why they felt they needed to hide us from the authorities, since it was the Romanian government we would be dealing with to finalize the adoption?

We were instructed never to leave without our official papers. This was something I was not used to. In America, we are free to come and go as we please. We are not stopped and asked to verify our legality of being in the country. We are not questioned by anyone for any reason, unless we break the law. In Romania, you can be stopped at any time for any reason, and must show proof of why you are legally in the country. This actually happened to us more than once. I remember feeling great anxiety each time we had to leave the apartment worried we would not have the correct paperwork. I had heard horror stories about Romanian prisons, and people could be imprisoned for any slight reason or suspicion. I had to keep reminding myself of the blessings we had received before we left, and that through faith, and prayers we would be safe and successful.

I have already mentioned how one of my biggest worries was my morning sickness, and my constant prayer of not throwing up in a public place. I made it to the apartment in Galati just in the nick of time. I asked if I could use the restroom, and they told me it was broken and not working. I shared with Elena that I was sick, and needed to throw up. She spoke in Romanian to her uncle Manoli, and then told me to just go in and use the toilet anyway. There was no water in it, and it was all taken apart. The other issue that I was not aware of until after I had emptied all the contents of my stomach, was the fact that the door to the bathroom did not stay closed unless you shut it, and used a manual metal hook and loop to keep it closed and locked. I can’t begin to share how mortified I was when I wiped my mouth, looked around for some tissue, and realized that my dad, Elena, Manoli and his wife Lucci were standing in the hallway watching me, and waiting for me to finish being sick.

This is when I learned the government controls everything. They control when you have water, when you have hot water, and when you have heat, and when you have electricity. The day we arrived at Lucci and Manoli’s apartment, there was no water, and no heat. I had to dig through one of my bags to find a bottle of water to rinse my mouth out, and brush my teeth. I also had to explain why I was throwing up. None of the people helping us knew that I was pregnant, and I didn’t want to divulge this information until after we had completed Errin’s Romanian part of the adoption. I was fearful if anyone knew, it would jeopardize us being able to get her. So I told them I was still feeling the effects of our airplane travel, which was partly the truth, and then I apologized profusely for the mess I had left in the bathroom. Lucci, Manoli, and Elena refused to let me clean it up, and that made me feel even worse. Elena instructed us to put our things in the larger of the two bedrooms in the apartment, which was tiny. And then we were to leave immediately for an appointment at the local tribunal where Nic and Rodika were already waiting for us. I would be meeting with the woman who had refused to authorize the translation of our paperwork.

The last thing I wanted to do at that point was get back in a car, or do anything other than lay down and try to get my stomach settled. But I mustered up some strength, put a handful of pink wintergreen lozenge mints in my pocket, grabbed a water bottle, and got back in the car. The strong and unusual smells I experienced the entire time in Romania made things so much harder. I knew I had lived a sheltered life here in Utah, and I had tried to prepare myself for what I would experience there, but nothing I could have done would have prepared me for the things I witnessed, felt, smelled, tasted and experienced. Elena had a nice car, also a Dacia brand, but much newer, and it actually had a back seat. As we were driving to the tribunal before they closed for the day, we passed a big flat-bed truck carrying a coffin – the kind you see in a Dracula movie. The man who had passed away had obviously died a horrific death, and had also obviously not been embalmed. Instead of being inside the box part of the coffin, he had been laid out on the lid visible for all to see, and was surrounded by flowers. The box part was on the truck bed as well. There were many people following the procession carrying large floral wreaths and bouquets as it wound itself through the streets of Galati. My mind and heart were reeling from the things I had witnessed so far that day. Things so harsh and foreign to me.

We made it to the tribunal before they closed, which is where I met Rodika and Nic for the very first time. There was an instant connection with these two angels here on earth!!! From what I could figure out, the tribunal was some sort of government office building. I thought we would be walking up the steps to a ground level or upper floor of the ancient building. Instead we were taken to a set of stairs that led to a deep, dark, underground cellar area filled with lines and lines of people, most of whom were smoking one cigarette after another. As I looked into their faces in the dimly lit hallway, all I could see was sadness, sorrow, and despair. I have no idea what their purpose was in being there, but it was obvious they were not having a good day. Rodika must have been standing in one of those lines for hours, for Elena took us to her at the front of one of the lines. Rodika was visibly nervous and relieved to see us! Through Elena’s translation, Rodika said we had arrived just in time, for we were next in line to be seen. Rodika instructed me not to speak unless I was asked a question that Elena would interpret for me, and then to make my answers positive and brief. We waited what seemed an eternity, but in reality it was probably only fifteen or twenty minutes. It was hard to breath, the cigarette smoke made my eyes and throat burn, and gave me asthma. I prayed for help to accomplish whatever we were there to do.

Soon the door opened and we were ushered inside. The room had no windows, and was also faintly lit. Evidently light bulbs were a luxury. I was told to sit in a chair next to Rodika. Everyone else was told to stand behind us, and not speak. The woman behind the desk was extremely upset, and had been sobbing. At the time I had no idea who she was, or why she was so upset. Rodika handed her a small scrapbook of pictures Val and Nancy had me put together and send with our paperwork that Father Tofan had personally delivered before we arrived. This book showed our home here in Kaysville, and happy pictures of our little family. Rodika spoke in Romanian, and the woman behind the desk just looked mad and angry. She finally slammed the scrapbook closed, angrily stamped some papers, and threw it all at Rodika. She quickly gathered it all up, grabbed me by the arm, and pushed us out of the room as fast as possible. I almost had to run down the hallway and up the stairs to the outside to catch up with her. This is when I learned who this woman was. She is the one who had refused to authorize the translation of our paperwork. All because she had seen a propaganda film made by the Romanian government that portrayed people like me, adopting babies to bring back and use for human organ transplants here in the states. And she believed it!!!

Little did I know the work Nancy had been doing back in Michigan in our behalf. As soon as I hung up the phone from talking to her in the Dallas/Ft. Worth Airport, she immediately called her Priest and asked him to light some candles and pray for us. Then she called Ron and let him know that she had informed us NOT to go because of the danger, but that we had insisted and were continuing on to Romania. She then called the Romanian Ambassador in Washington D.C. and told him of our situation. How this woman was refusing to authorize the translation of our paperwork, and asked him to intervene on our behalf. The timing of this miracle and many others could not have been more perfect. The reason the woman had been sobbing, and the reason we were waiting out in the hallway, was for her to complete a phone call from the Romanian Ambassador in Washington D.C. himself, instructing her that if she did not authorize our paperwork, she would lose her job and go to prison. He told her she was under strict obligation to authorize paperwork until June 1st. We received the phone call on Memorial Day, May 27, 1991. We left Salt Lake City, Utah on Tuesday, May 28th at noon. It took over 27 hours to get to Romania, and we stayed in Bucharest the first night. The time difference between Utah and Romania at the time was nine hours ahead. So I’m not sure if we were in Galati on May 30th or the 31st. All I know is that we made it by the skin of our teeth, and had experienced yet another miracle. All the prayers I had prayed on the airplane, and all the prayers going up to Heaven from Kaysville, to Michigan, to Washington D.C., to Romania had been answered. It had taken an army of angels on both sides of the veil to accomplish this impossible task!

Rodika and Nic walked us back to the car with Elena, and even though they did not speak much English, somehow we were able to communicate. This happened each time we met with them as they helped us navigate the crazy twists and turns of a Romanian Adoption. I asked when we would meet Val, and Elena told us he was busy helping another adoptive mother in Suceava, and that she was making things difficult for him. I vowed not to make things any harder than they already were. Elena said that until Val could finish with her there, and get her on her way, that she, her mother Rodika, and Nic would be helping us every step of the way. I remember feeling a little uneasy about this at first, but then I had a calm feeling come over me, and I knew we were in good hands that could be trusted.

Elena then took us back to Manoli and Lucci’s apartment where Lucci had a meal ready for us. The standard tomatoes, cucumbers, jumbo sized hot radishes, and some type of mystery salami. I ate it as best I could, and shortly afterward lost it all again. . . Thankfully by this time, Manoli had fixed the toilet, it had water in it, and I had latched the lock on the door. I brushed my teeth with my sacred bottled water, grabbed a couple more pink wintergreen lozenge candies, and bid Lucci and Manoli a good night. We were then left to try and organize our room somehow with all our bags and boxes, and figure out our sleeping arrangements. There was one bed, the size was in between that of one of our twin size mattresses and a double size mattress here in America. There was an overstuffed chair in the room, but the springs were literally sticking through the bottom with no seat cushion. Sitting in that chair was painful at best, and the floor was not an option. I looked at dad, and told him we were just going to be adults about it, and we would both sleep on the bed. He squished against the wall, and I hugged the other edge. Soon he was snoring, and as tired as I was, I laid there and listened to the mosquitoes buzzing around my head for most of the night. I prayed the next day would be a little easier . . .

All I could think of was the Primary song from church that I sang in my head each night – “Heavenly Father, are You really there? And do You hear and answer every child’s prayer. Some say that Heaven is far away, but I feel it close around me as I pray.“ I prayed the next day would be filled with more LIGHT, that I would feel Heaven near, and that we would continue to be blessed with health and safety. Because so far the past two days had been dark and difficult!!!

Stay tuned for more on our adoption story . . . and know that even in the midst of darkness and despair, you can find the LIGHT to sustain you, it may be dim, but it is always there!!!! It only takes a little bit to find your way along the path of life.

Love Ya, Les :)

Family

Chapter Six : Arriving in Galati