Running Through The Rain

My mother, brother, and I weren’t always family. 

There was a time where we were strangers, just making our ways in our separate lives, not knowing one another, not knowing anything. 

Why was this, you may ask?

It was because I was adopted at the age of seven. 

Yes, we weren’t just any family, we were a found family. 

My mother, before she was my mother, was a writer. Sometimes an author in her spare time made a few bucks out of the books but that was about it. She never made much, just enough to buy a house in the suburban town she and my brother lived in. 

Where was I when all this happened?

Running through the rain. It was always easier to sneak out of the orphanage on rainy days. 

Away from the orphanage, I ran, looking for a place to stay for a while. Just a little while. 

Every other house had been mean to me. They wouldn’t acknowledge me or even let me stay for a bit. How rude. Then again, we can’t blame them now, can we? How well would you react if a child merely showed up at your doorstep asking to stay awhile? 

I eventually had run too far from the small orphanage and found myself in the fields a bit further off the areas of our town. (I was always good with maps, so I wasn’t lost.) It was there that I spotted a house. 

A quaint little home with lanterns on the outside and a carpet that said:

“Welcome”.

“Welcome, hm?” I asked myself out loud. “Then I must be welcomed too, right?”

I had the courage, and audacity that any five-year-old had to knock upon strangers’ doors, and simply appear. 

So I knocked. 

“Get the door, boy.” I heard a woman shout after someone. “Could be a friend of yours.”

The boy, clearly irritated as I heard from the other side of the door, talked back to his mother. 

“Mom, you know very well that I have no friends.”

“My point still stands. Answer the door.” 

“Fine, but don’t expect it to be a friend of mine.” The boy said again. 

Then, I stood and smiled, speaking once the door opened. 

“Hiya there!” And so I said my name. 

The boy looked shocked. 

“Who exactly are you? I don’t think girl scouts are out this late offering cookies.”

“What’s a girl scout?” I asked, my eyes widening in curiosity. 

The boy had a moment of calm before shouting to his mother in a panic. 

This household was different. They were funny. 

“MA! THERE’S A LITTLE GIRL HERE, AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!” 

“Are you going to send me away?” I asked, pretending to have tears form in my eyes. Fake crying was my specialty. 

“I won’t send you away but-” The boy began, but was soon stopped when his mother exclaimed a statement in my direction. 

“She’s adorable! Now, look what you’ve made her do. You’ve made her cry.”

This household was different, they don’t mind me. 

“You won’t send me away, will you?” I whimpered as tears flowed freely from my eyes. 

“We won’t send you away, but we will need to ask you where your parents-”

I clapped my hands in glee, knowing that they wouldn’t send me away. 

“Yehey! So you won’t send me away. Can I stay for dinner?” 

“But your parents-”

“Can I? Can I?” I insisted, avoiding the topic about my parents. 

Because I didn’t have any. 

Now, I won’t say what their answer was, but let me tell you, that I left their house with a full stomach and satisfied grin. 

“Goodbye, nice lady! Goodbye, her son!” I said as I left their humble abode. 

“I have a name, you know?!’ The boy shouted after me before running up to me holding out a parasol. 

“Make sure to take a bath when you get home okay? You might get sick. Here, use this umbrella.”

“Thanks, big brother!” I said as I waved goodbye. These were nice people. I should visit them more often. 

This was a very kind household. I liked them very much. 

Just as I made my way away from their home, the boy whispered something in his mother’s ear. She whipped her head around to him once he had done so, and asked him a question. 

“Do you really think?”

“I’m as sure as can be.”

Once I made my way back to the orphanage, the head caregiver spotted me and started thanking the Lord abundantly. 

“Thank goodness, child! Where have you been?”

“Away in the fields…” I said, making sure not to tell the full story, or else they might make sure I never go to that kind of household again. 

“Thank god you didn’t get lost!” She exclaimed. “How did you find your way back home?”

“A map.”

“You can read those?”

“It’s easy. After all, you already taught me about north, south, east, and west.”

“Suppose we did, suppose we did.”

I took a bath and jumped into my bed. 

I hoped to meet those nice people again. 

The next day was greeted with rain, and I was ecstatic! I could sneak out and meet the family again. 

I ran through the fields, my boots wet from all the puddles. I walked through the tall cornfield, with a compass I had ‘borrowed’ from another child in the orphanage. I couldn’t see very well, but I remembered that as long as I kept going north, I would arrive at their small house. 

I arrived a few feet near it, and I went to knock on the door. 

“Hiya! It’s me again!” I said once the door had been answered. 

“Ah! It’s you again!” The boy said once he had seen me. “Mom! She’s back!”

“Let her in.” Said his mother while reading a book about astrology. 

And so I visited them. It was every single rainy day without fail. 

The woman’s son had soon developed a nickname for me, calling me kitty. He said it was because I was like a cat that kept coming back for food. 

The mother grew a fondness for me. 

I loved that family, even though it was just the two of them. They liked me, and I liked them. That mother and son had been the sun on my rainy days, and the warmth in my cold. 

Eventually, the time came around when they asked me where I came from. My eyes cast downwards, and I tried to avert myself from the question and I began to cry. 

For once in my life, I cried real tears. 

“Look dear, we won’t send you away. We just need to know where you come from. You spend so much time here that your parents might-”

“I have no parents.”

Then from the kitchen, I heard a voice. 

“I called it, kitty. You’d always take the direction back to the orphanage.” 

“Now that you know I’m an orphan, will you send me away?”

Then, there was a pause. 

“We’ll bring you back to the orphanage and see what we can do, okay?” The mother said as she motioned her son to do something.

So he picked me up, and I snuggled into his arms. And so we walked through the cornfields. 

Once we arrived at the orphanage, the woman and her son had faced the head caregiver who had been taking care of me. The mother had stayed silent, simply looking at me. It was when her son spoke up that my tears resurfaced and I cried once more. 

“I want this little girl to be a part of our family.”

The caregiver composed herself before she asked one of the older kids to bring me upstairs. 

In a room where the woman and her son were ushered, the caregiver called in my social worker. 

“If you want to apply to adopt her, we would like to ask you a few questions.”

I knew not about the details of the questions, but I know it went something along the lines of this:

Home situation?

Good. 

Loving and caring relationship?

Present. 

A good financial situation? 

Absent. 

“Madame, I am sorry to inform you that if you wish to adopt this child, you will have to fix your financial situation. Though you aren’t in any debt, you can barely take care of you and your son. If you care so dearly about the girl, we can make sure that we update you when she is adopted so we can ask the adoptive parents if you can stay in touch.”

“So, my financial situation is one of the biggest factors?” The woman asked. 

“Yes, I am afraid so.” 

“Then I will do something to fix it. I want the child.”

Then, her son spoke up. “I too will help.”

“Then you must hurry. She will be put up for intercountry adoption soon.” 

As mother and son walked home that day, they made a promise once they reached the cornfields. 

“Son, we are to work. We will improve everything that needs improvement, and she will be your younger sister. She will be my daughter.”

“Yes, mother.” He said, as their eyes filled, burning with determination. 

It wasn’t easy. I was kept under strict watch so that I couldn’t visit them, and they, they worked. 

“Damn woman! Can’t you get my simple order right?” A comment the woman got when she took up a job as a waitress. 

“I apologize.”

“You delivered me the wrong newspaper subscription, boy.” A comment her son got while working as a newspaper boy. 

There were some days when-

Crash. A glass was broken right in front of the woman, for not only had she worked in a restaurant, but she also took up a job in a pub where she had to serve most of the drunks. 

“Hey! You work here, don’t you? Get to picking up those shards.”

“Right away, sir. I’ll grab a broom and dustpan and get to work.”

Those days were the toughest. 

“Here is your order sir.” The woman said one day while serving a customer. 

“You forgot the ashtray that I asked for.”

Then, he dug his cigarette into her palm. She calmly put down the plate before rushing off to the kitchen to get some cold water on her hand. 

It wasn’t any easier for her son. 

“Drop everything you have boy.” A man one day pointed a gun at her son. 

That day, he gave all the money he had, all the profit that he had earned to the man, just so he wouldn’t be killed. 

When he returned to his boss, he was called an idiot. 

An idiot for wanting to live? What kind of cruel world do we live in?

Forced to sell his bike to make up for his lost profit, he would walk along his kilometer-long routes every day since he lost all his money at gunpoint. 

They were struggling without a doubt, but I wasn’t any better. 

“Can’t I stay in this small town?”

“No, but aren’t you excited? You’ll get to travel the world.”

“NO! I don’t want to travel if it’s without them!”

The caregivers knew better than to shatter my hopes further. 

One night as it rained, I decided to sneak out to meet the family again. Coming up with a clever plan, I went on my way.  

I ran and ran through the cornfields going north. I would see them again. 

Knock. Knock. 

The woman’s son answered the door and began to cry when he saw me. I suppose you could say that I did the same. 

“Do you realize what you’re making us do?” He asked in an angered tone after he wiped the tears away. 

“Huh?”

“You’re so stupid, kitty.” He said sobbing again. “Do you know how many burns mom has gotten from her new job? Do you know how many cuts she now has from picking up broken glass when there wasn’t any broom and dustpan?”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to bring you this much trouble I just-”

But he continued.

“Do you realize how many times I’ve walked over a kilometer just to deliver newspapers for very little money? Do you realize that I was once held at gunpoint?”

“I’m sorry!” I shouted, full-on crying. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be a burden. I just wanted to escape from time to time. I didn’t realize-”

“Don’t apologize, my kitty.

We do it all because we love you.” And so I spent half the night sobbing in his arms. 

Just as problems are solved over time, my sixth birthday was drawing near, and I had a special birthday present. 

I was led down the stairs blindfolded, and into the dining hall. 

When I took off the blindfold I was surprised to see the mother and son whom I loved so dearly in front of me.

“I thought that you… what… how? I thought I would be put up for intercountry adoption?”

“Well,” The woman began, “We wanted to keep it a secret from you for a while until your sixth birthday, but today is your court hearing. Today is the day we hear if you are to be a part of our family or not!”

I was overjoyed! How could I not be? The family I always wanted to be a part of, almost in my grasp. 

I remember everything, from the big room to the testimonies. I remember the scary look on the face of the judge. I remember sitting next to the woman’s son. I remember how his arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders. 

I remember the rain pelting the outside world, and I remembered the judge’s softened face as if almost touched when being told about our story. 

Then, I will never forget the words that left his mouth. Until now, it sends shivers down my spine and makes me want to jump up in objection. 

“Denied.”

The woman did just as I wished to do. She jumped up from her seat. 

“But why?! I’ve fixed my financial issues, and I’ve made a caring environment for both me and my son. I’ve loved this child since the day she showed up at our doorstep! Why can’t we become a family?”

“I simply do not think you’re ready.”

I jumped from my seat and ran through the court’s doors. 

It was at that moment that all my feelings burst, and had melted down. The rainy days that had once been my happiness, were now my gloom. I cried and sobbed. Anything that one would do when being in the state beyond upset. 

I know not of what happened, the last thing I heard before being ushered away was, 

“I appeal for another court trial! Please!”

“Very well, the court shall grant you one.” The judge said. 

“But don’t expect my answer to change.”

The second trial took place a few weeks after the first. 

Now, I remember everything as clearly as I remember my first court trial. The only thing that changed? 

The judge. 

“Hello, I will be your judge for today. The one who had handled your case previously had fallen ill today, therefore I will be taking his place.”

She was a young woman with hair tied up into a ballet bun. 

She looked scary. 

The hours passed on, as the woman, who I hoped to call my mother, stated her case. The judge seemed to listen more intently than the other, taking into consideration everything she heard. 

‘It’s over for me. I’ll be put up for intercountry adoption and that will be the end of me and this family.’

I don’t remember what the judge said, but the next thing I had seen after the two grueling hours was the judge smiling contently, the woman who I hoped to call mom, crying, and the boy who I hoped to call my brother, hugging me. 

Then, I saw it. I saw what words the judge mouthed. 

“Approved.”

Once I recovered from my shock, the woman- no. 

My mother ran out into the rain, beckoning for me and her son, my new brother to follow along. 

And so we ran through the rain. 

Our newfound family, running through the rain. 

Epilogue:

As soon as we rushed outside to enjoy the rain, the judge smiled, exiting from another corner. 

“Mommy!” Her daughter said greeting her at the exit. “Did you approve of another adoption?”

“Yes, my dear. Another happy family. I hope they make it in this world.” 

“Did it remind you of when you adopted me?”

“Yes.”

Hey! Me too!” Her older son said, and the judge began to laugh. 

“Yes, you too.”

It was then that her husband appeared. 

“Do you really think they’ll make it in this world? They’re not the richest…”

“You don’t need abundant riches to make it in this world. All you need is the support of one another. All you need is patience and love. That’s it.” 

“Ah, look. Why don’t we run through the rain too?”

And so the other happy family was seen, running in the rain.