„On Good Friday before Easter, I was called by authorities and asked to go to take a girl of seven years, motherless and father unknown, from a neighboring town. Along with Cristi, my son, we headed towards the place indicated hardly making our place among large flakes of snow mixed with sad rain drops flowing from the dark sky. In front of an Orthodox Church, with hands stuck deep in her pockets, her head bowed and two bags of clothes on one side and the other, accompanied by her favorite doll (Strawberry Shortcake), a girl with big, sad eyes was waiting for us. I went to her and said: “I am father Vasile.” She looked puzzled at me as if searching for meaning in the word “father” and after several seconds, she says: “I am D. ..”. We got in the car and headed toward the orphanage, and the sadness pressed so hard around us that words froze for a while and only unhindered thoughts were wondering, when to Jesus crucified between two thieves, when to the orphan girl between two bags of clothes.
At one point, the one that broke the silence was D., who said: “You know, I am an orphan .. My mother died of cancer. But I still dream of her in the night ..”. I looked at my son and he at me, like a spear her words pierced our hearts, we hardly could find words of comfort and encouragement. I told her then that my mother died when I was little, and maybe now they can meet each other in heaven, where there is no suffering and sorrow.
Here we are, entering the courtyard of the orphanage and D.’s question and concern were: “But how will the other children receive me? How will they react? “. Cristi trying to reassure her he says, “You will be fine D., you’ll see that the other kids would enjoy to see you and will receive you well.” I climbed the stairs slowly and Cristina(Cristi’s wife) and Lucretia, my wife came to meet her. They embraced her then she was introduced to the staff of the orphanage, she met the other children and was presented her new home. I left and came back the next day and when D. saw me, she cried: “Daddy, Daddy, I have my own bed! Come and see it. ” She took my hand and introduced me to her room, her bed and wardrobe, and then I went into the courtyard and she showed me a drawing made by her on the ground.
She drew a woman holding a little girl’s hand and next to them some flowers. and some flowers. D.’s drawing represented her with her dear mother. I looked at her and seeing her smile on her face I could only rejoice in my heart, to praise the Lord and thank Him for His infinite love, for He is the father of the fatherless, who takes care of every step. On Sunday morning, D. went with the other children to church and attended sunday school, and when we celebrated the Resurrection, D. could sing wholeheartedly: “It’s alive, it’s alive, my Lord is alive!”.
We are at the beginning of July, and D. ended the school year. Smiling, confident, head up like a real fighter turned to the podium where she was awarded for her results. Now, D. enjoys her holiday and can draw freely on the asphalt court. Maybe she will draw again her mother’s face and using a “magic pen” will join her gentle hand with her mother’s hand on the other land, whispering to her: “Do not worry Mom, I found my Father who loves me and cares for me. God is my Father.”