In Haiti Garlise was in survival mode all the time, even in the orphanage where he knew he was safe. He freely accepted his role at BRESMA as the `man of the house' and took responsibility for many of the small children, as well as his completely clueless and helpless American mother each time I came to visit him. He escorted me everywhere I went, translated for me from Kreyol to my limited Kreyol, and tirelessly assisted me with all kinds of un-fun work I did for Magarette, the orphanage director and my boss. In Haiti, Garlise was a responsible, gentle, loving man at all times. He never showed anger at anything. He was endlessly patient and selfless. Over the long, longmonths we at last began to see his playful side. He learned that it was okay to tease me, especially about my poor Kreyol and ignorance of how the world works. There was no question about who was the wisest, the leader, and the main decision maker. It was him!

When at last our plane touched down in the U.S., I leaned over and whispered, "Jwet pou mwen!" (my turn) in his ear. This was a reference to our favorite family joke, which was that in Haiti he got to make fun of my Kreyol but soon it would be my turn to make fun of his English. Although Garlise didn't know it, it was also a reference to some other changes that were coming down the pike…

Our first day home in our new world was the easiest first day that any adoptive family could possibly have had in the history of the world. Our son was fourteen years old and very logical. I was able to explain to him in his own language how and why everything worked. It was such a joy getting to introduce my son, who came from even more deprivation than many other Haitian children, to the millions of little luxuries we Americans take for granted. I showed him the working sink with hot water, right in the house. This led to a quick trip down to the basement to examine the water heater. I had to admit I didn't know if it was gas or electric, which didn't do much to increase Garlise's confidence in my competence. Haitian adults know how everything in their homes work… I did get to show him how to use a hot shower (huge hit!) and explained that Americans shower naked. He thought that was weird, but was willing to do so as he could lock the bathroom door. I showed him the washing machine, vacuum, dishwasher, and so many other marvelous things that he had seen on TV and waited and waited to enjoy with his siblings.

Of course, the greatest gift we could give him was family. Garlise was overjoyed to be reunited with his beloved siblings. He and Myrlande (age 12 at the time) started squabbling for dominance right away and Garlise lavished attention on the younger two. He knew just how to make friends with Emily(our biological daughter) - he was great with little girls already. He had his familiar, rather foolish big-sister figure to translate for him (me) and a man who all the children liked and trusted to bring home enough money to keep us all safe in our wonderful house (Mike). All was good.

Our first morning home I had to go to Walmart to buy groceries. Garlise was skeptical, and of course decided to accompany me. "You can drive?" he asked as I sat down in the driver's seat.

"Yes," I laughed.

"Are you sure?" he asked, with obvious concern.

Once we were out of our neighborhood, he carefully checked with me to make sure I knew where the market was, and that I would be able to find my way home afterwards...

It took several weeks before Garlise was convinced that I am not actually an idiot all of the time – just while I am in Haiti. Over the following months, he learned that there will always be enough food for all of us and that he doesn't need to make sure that the children and I eat first. He learned that Mike really isn't dangerous (more on that later). Most importantly, he began to learn that Mike and I expect to be the parents, and that in our world he is not a man at all yet. This is not proving to be an easy lesson for a boy who has learned very well that he is on his own in a very dangerous world.

This fall our family moved to South Dakota. All of the children started public school, something I thought we would never be able to do. The school here is tiny and excellent. My two oldest children are being given all the respect and support they need to excel academically. Garlise is enrolled in the 9th grade. He is reading at a second or third grade level in his new language, and I can no longer help him with some of the algebra he is bringing home. It was a pleasant surprise to learn that our son appears to be very gifted academically. He's been playing sports, which has helped immensely socially. Garlise is very well liked, apparently, by everyone in the school. He is becoming more and more confident and independent, which is probably what leads to our current dilemmas and issues!

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