First Meeting

by Marybeth

Sweet, sad girl  
Waking in your new mama’s arms,  
Familiar faces gone.

  “Abu! Abu zia nar?”  
“Auntie! Auntie where are you?”

Oh that I could kiss away  
your frantic cries,  
This storm of grief.

Can you imagine?  
I loved you before I even met you.  
Danced and laughed,  
Your tiny picture held under my heart.  
Longed for you before you were born.  
Dreamed of your wondrous eyes,  
Your toddler courage,  
Your baby strength.

SIX MONTHS LATER

And now, my beautiful little one,  
With your delicious laugh  
And your busy hands.  
Do any yearnings still haunt your dreams?

China cried, they cried, Abu cried  
And then smiled through their tears.  
Love this child they said.  
Guard this child they said.  
She is your treasured daughter now.  
You are her family  
As she is yours.  
Your family is American.  
Your family is Chinese.  
We would not steal your sorrow.  
But we will add sweet joy,  
And shining songs,  
And tender, patient, love.  
Hold fast to your history, my rosy child.  
Together we look to the future.  
We are American.  
We are Chinese.

Copyright Marybeth Lambe, 1999

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