Man Zou

My friend, Nadine, adopted two of her daughters from China. The girls are now nine and eleven. This summer they returned as a family to tour China and visit their orphanages and finding places (places where the girls were found, presumably near a birthplace). Her eldest daughter is from an area near Nanchang. This is a bit from her blog:

"When we met J (daughter) as a baby, the people who brought her to us knew nothing of her. We had been told they had just stopped that morning on the way to Nanchang and picked her up from her foster mother. All identifying information had been blocked out on our paperwork, so we were thrilled to even have a name....[Now, returning years later], we had been told that J's foster mother had been elderly and had passed away five or six years ago. Wendy (tour guide) told us that we could at least get photos of the area where she had lived. Wendy had basic directions to (the village), but we were soon lost and had to ask directions several times. [In her post she further describes trying to find directions from numerous people, also asking if anyone had ever heard of the foster mother's family.]
We had taken several photos of the area and were content knowing that this was the right village, but Wendy would not give up. She stopped one last time at another shoppe and this time a young man on a motorcycle said he knew of a lady who was elderly that used to take care of foster babies with that surname, and he would take us to her. He led the way and we soon came to a muddy little road leading up a small hill. Wendy got out and...[began] talking to a group of women. [She] asked a few more questions and then said, "This is her!"...We motioned for J to come up and the little lady said that she remembered her. [My friend then details a very special reunion with lots of pictures and an invitation for tea.]
Finally we had to leave so we all hugged goodbye and she told us "man zou"--a farewell reserved for special friends. We walked down the hill and got into the van and when we looked up, she had followed us--another gesture for special friends--to go with them on their journey as far as you can.
It was a very unexpected ending to our stop and we asked Wendy what made her think she might still be alive and to keep asking until she found her. She said, "I think the Gods helped us. I kept praying to them (pointing to her heart) "please help us, please help us....and they did. It is a miracle!""

I wonder how many babies this elderly woman passed on lovingly to American, European or Australian strangers. I wonder how many times she has walked to the end of the road, journeying with them until the final moments of distance carries them away to a new life. Man Zou she whispers.

Slowly go.

Man Zou (mahn z-ou) is a common Mandarin Chinese phrase that translates to "walk slow" or "slowly go" When used as a farewell, it's a way of reminding one another to be careful and mindful on the journey, and take the time to see things along the way. Walk slowly and you won't fall.

We will leave for China in three days. Another farewell. Another beginning.
I've experienced a flood of emotion this past month. I don't have a place for all of these feelings--not all of them are bad. As a family we've been focusing on "We will pray and we will plan." It was the only thing I could come up with when we returned home in March. Since then, I've tried to focus on the faith that I do have and like Wendy, I keep praying "please help us, please help us."

It's got to work out this time, right??!

And that's where the Man Zou seeps into my thoughts...somewhere between fear and anxiety and hope and anticipation is this little place where the tears start to fall as I think about how our splendid family of four will soon be five. My children will be a big brother and big sister; and we will have a toddler! Can we slowly go through these last few days together? Taking in every moment of what has been so special and wonderful about these last six years together. Can we walk slowly enough to be mindful of the miracles we have experienced and the strength we have gained from sticking together?

A respectful farewell to tragedy.
A loving, enduring and emotional farewell to these years we've had with just four hearts, forty fingers, and a great deal of cat hair.

Man Zou.
Man Zou.
Man Zou.