It all began in January 2001. Two couples in Texas, one in Richardson, the other in Georgetown, began their separate journeys to become parents - and with very different expectations. They both had decided to adopt to complete their families and both had chosen Russia as the country in which they would seek their children. Both couples found the same agency in Dallas that specialized in international adoption from various countries, one of which was Russia.

Once the agency was chosen there were orientations and multiple-day seminars to attend before the couples could receive their applications. The required agency paperwork was voluminous. The couples were asked to answer questions that were personal, and in some cases, intrusive and even embarrassing. To couples who are unable to conceive, the process is likened to the invasive doctor visits every pregnant woman dreads. Yet, it must be done, and the quicker the better. Though there were many hurdles to clear, more than with other agencies they'd read about, the couples knew this was the right agency for them. Little did they know that the process was just beginning.

At the time, the agency was not "accredited" in Russia, which meant the couples would need to make two trips to complete the adoption. David, one of the husbands, had been afraid of flying his entire life, and the thought of flying across the ocean four times was hard for him to consider. For a time, David Hunt and his wife Kari considered looking into a different country to avoid the flights. They'd heard that one country even allowed a proxy to escort the mother and child home and wanted to know more. Eventually, though, they knew that option was not going to work, so they continued with the original agency.

Meeting after meeting, the couples waited for their turn to be presented with a "match." The agency, after having combed through all of the information provided by the couples, would match the parents-to-be with a child the agency thought would be most appropriate. The word of the day was wait. Agency staff had made it quite clear that waiting would be the longest and most grueling part of the process, and they were right. The couples met by chance one summer day that same year and unbeknownst to them, their lives would be thereafter bonded together.

Finally, one of the couples, Bill and Ruth Ellen Heaton, was matched with a beautiful boy who lived in Baby Home No. 1 in St. Petersburg. August 2001 brought Trey's fourth birthday, and yet still no invitation for the Heatons to travel to see their son. The waiting continued. Nearly eight full months since the process began and still no word of when they would travel. Frustration and confusion mounted for the couple, as it did for the Hunts who had not even been matched at this point. Could Russia reject them? Had that been done, wondered the pair? What if it didn't happen, after all they'd already been through, the home-study, the three-hour drives one way to Dallas every month for meetings, the required five books that were read, the two sets of physicals and an unknown number of shots, and now to be rejected? It seemed impossible, but this was Russia after all. Still a mysterious, and for all they knew, unfriendly place to Americans, especially to those who were taking away their children.

Kari rejoiced when the Heatons were matched, however felt disheartened because she learned of a family that waited over a year to be matched, and feared she and David were on a similar path. She'd wanted to be a mother since she could remember, and patience was not a virtue Kari was known for. Kari's focus in life was now squarely set on becoming a mother. Luckily, the Hunt's case manager was supportive and understanding, and someone they could always lean on in tough times. Monday, Kari gave him a call. To their credit, agency personnel never pulled punches and were honest with the couple always. Nothing had been held up on purpose, it was just a matter of time until the couple would be matched. Wednesday of that week, the case manager called Kari. This was odd, thought Kari, "I just spoke to him two days ago." Kari took the call and heard the incredible news... she was about to take the next step in becoming a mother. Finally, the Hunts had a match opportunity. The agency made sure they knew they could reject the match and suffer no other setbacks because of it. The case manager was going to send an email with a picture and overnight his medical reports for review. Vladimir was living in Baby Home No. 1 in St. Petersburg. "Take at least until Monday to let me know," they said to Kari.

The picture came over computer and printed out one line at a time starting from the top. "Come on, come on" Kari screamed in her office. First came the golden hair, then the forehead, and then the eyes. The picture could have stopped right there and the computer frozen forever, for Kari knew in her heart that this child was to be hers. All at once a rush of emotion came over her and she began to weep at her desk. This was it. This was the child that was to be with her for the rest of her life. Before David saw the picture himself, he cautioned Kari to not get attached, that something could still go wrong. The stark silence on the other end of Kari's telephone, as the picture emailed to David slowly loaded to his computer, told her that he was a goner, too. David knew then that the reason he'd been born was to be the father of this child. Nothing would stop them now from becoming this boy's parents.

The attacks of September 11 brought unspeakable terror and destruction to America, the likes of which it had never seen before. The couples had good reason to turn their attention to something other than the adoptions. But, between feeling numb and sorrowful for those who had died and their families who survived them, came the thought of the boys. Were they safe? Would the couples be safe coming home from trips overseas? Would the boys be unjustly sought out and punished for being with the couples because they were American? The couples wanted their boys home as quickly as possible. However, that would not be the reality. The State Department issued travel advisory warning to all Americans traveling abroad, which meant the agency was not going to send any families until the advisory warning was lifted. The travel advisory was set to last six months. So the wait was on again.

Videotape was available of the boys and was given the couples periodically, a great relief so they could see the boys and know they were safe. Each couple received their own videotape, which focused primarily on their respective sons. "Funny how this one little boy is always in the picture with Trey" said Ruth Ellen. "They seem to be great friends," she continued to remark to Bill.

During a break at one of the regular agency meetings, the Hunts had pictures of Vladdy and were happy to show anyone who would care to take a look. "That's the boy," said Ruth Ellen. "That's the little boy in the video with Trey." The Hunts were given a copy of the video and saw the two boys together. What an incredible thought, that the two boys, who were such good friends in an orphanage in St. Petersburg, Russia, would soon travel half way around the world and be able to live only a three-hour drive away from each other. The couples agreed then that they would commit to each other to arrange a visit each month so the boys could see each other.

The agency decided that if the parents wanted to travel at this time that they would be allowed to go as long as they had received the invitation from Russia. The Heatons traveled in September for their first trip to see Trey. Although the couples did not get to travel to Russia together, they were there simultaneously. The Heatons were visiting for the second time and the Hunts were on their first trip. By the time the Hunts arrived the Heatons were already allowed to take Trey from the orphanage while they awaited their call to Moscow. The Hunts were then able to meet the boy who had been their son's best friend for his first three years of life. All Vladdy and Trey had known were the orphanage and each other. Trey had no idea that he would ever see Vladdy again, and Vladdy thought he had lost his friend forever, left alone in the orphanage where they had been since birth. The winters in St. Petersburg are bitterly cold, but this one was especially harsh for two native sons.

One of the best-kept secrets about Russia is that most, if not all, prominent members of society, outside of the political world, are women. While the men are chiefly engaged in the armed forces or heavy industrial work, women of the country are the attorneys, accountants, translators, orphanage directors, etc. The couples had heard, since they knew they'd be going to St. Petersburg, that the judges and the orphanage director they were likely to deal with were tough as nails. Once the Hunts arrived at the orphanage on a dark, cold December morning, they had a chance to finally meet the director. She stood no higher than five feet tall, but had the demeanor of a drill sergeant. Her job was to protect the children and see that they were going to good parents. Out of a room full of children bounced a tiny little boy with arms wide open to hug his new mama and papa. The room where the family was taken was cold, large, and empty. The director, translator, minister of education (a woman) and others filled the room to monitor the interaction of the couple with Vladdy. The Hunts were unsure how to act with so many people closely watching their every move. Should they be stern with the boy, who wanted to climb over and write on everything he could touch? Or should they let him? What was the correct way to act? The couple decided to hold the boy for as long as he would let them. One could tell Vladdy had been held on a number of occasions as he did not react as most institutionalized children did when physical contact was initiated, according to the books. The translator later admitted that every time she'd visited the orphanage with other families, she made a point to hug Vladdy. The Hunts could never repay this act of kindness, and they understood the love the woman must have for the boy. He is easy to love.

The three days with Vladdy flew, and now came the difficult task of leaving their dear little Vladdy and go back home. They were told the adoption trip was likely to take place maybe late January or possibly even February of 2002. This time the waiting would be the worst, thought the two. On December 5, 2001 as they said their goodbyes to this little boy who had become so much a part of them, Kari cried. Vladdy sweetly smiled and looked at her inquisitively. Natasha, the translator, told the confused child that the next time mama and papa came that he will go home as well. He said goodbye and quickly turned and went back to playing with the other children.

Surprisingly, the Hunt's second trip came quickly, only two weeks after the first. It was time for the new family to leave St. Petersburg and travel to Moscow to proceed with the finalization of the adoption at the American Embassy. As the Hunts were leaving with their son, Kari felt a light tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see the orphanage director in tears, holding her arms out to hug the new mother. Kari immediately followed suit and the two women embraced as though they were life-long friends. "Thank you," the director said in a whisper. "Thank you for taking one of the older ones. He's quite special, you know."

At the train station in St. Petersburg, the Hunts were waiting for the next train to Moscow with the translator. A deep voice came over the public address system, and after a moment the translator said "Ok, that's your train, there." The four walked toward the car that would take them eight hours south to the capital where the embassy was located. As the Hunts were loading their luggage and leaving the minus thirty-degree cold, the translator pulled Kari aside and the two hugged as if on the side of a cliff. They didn't want to let go. They had formed a friendship in three weeks and were at once happy and sad. The translator told Kari that she had wanted to adopt Vladdy herself, and that this was terribly hard for her. Instantly, Kari realized the magnitude of the gift she was just given, for in Russia, there is a commonly known risk for all international adoptions in that if a Russian family makes it known to the orphanage director and judges that they are interested in a child, they will receive preference over a foreign family. The couple could have been in the middle of signing their names at the courthouse and the judge would have stopped the process in a moment's notice upon hearing of the woman's intentions. That would have been the end. But she didn't. She allowed the little boy to leave her forever, hoping he would be happy in a land far away.

December 30, 2001, and the Heatons were back at DFW airport. This time they weren't leaving, but there to greet the Hunts home from their second trip. The flight from London to Dallas is nine hours, approximately the number of hours of sleep enjoyed by the couple since the train left for Moscow, five days before. The elevator door opened to the terminal where the Heatons and others were waiting, and the most memorable five minutes in the couples' lives began. Vladdy was tired and confused and knew nothing of his new world. His Mama and Papa spoke funny, and they hadn't stayed in one place for more than two nights since they met. Then, in a flutter, a voice screamed out "Vladdy!" It was a familiar voice. It was Trey. He was sprinting toward Vladdy in a mad rush. The boys lunged at each other and hugged for what must have seemed like a split second but in reality it was five full minutes. The relief and comfort of seeing each other left the boys giddy. Understanding just a little of what the boys were going through wrenched the hearts of everyone in the room and left no one tearless.

As promised, the couples met dutifully every month so the boys could play and grow together. At the reunion in June, the Hunts had some news. They were moving to Dallas. The boys could now be together as often as they wanted, and with both Kari and Ruth Ellen working from home, there was opportunity for many get-togethers.

One night, as David and Bill were taking care of the boys, sort of a girls-night out, Kari noticed Ruth Ellen's watch. It was adorned with charms. "How beautiful and creative," Kari exclaimed. The charms were attached to the watchband, like a charm bracelet. As the two discussed Ruth Ellen's charms one by one, it was noted that there really aren't any charms designed to reflect the joys of motherhood. The two set out secretly to find each other a mother's charm to give to the other as a gift. They each searched and found nothing related to adoptive mothers. Thus, the idea was born. They had decided that it would be a smart idea to design charms that helped mothers retake their journey through their motherhood, and to cater to adoptive mothers, which was a subject near and dear to their hearts.

The new business is flourishing. As a special "thanks" to the agency for bringing the families together, and for reuniting the boys a half of a world away, their company, A Mother's Charm, has committed to donate 10% of all profits to the organization for as long as they are in business. As part of their commitment to all children in the world who have been placed for adoption, A Mother's Charm has devised a series of seminars to help prospective parents to fulfill their dreams of adopting, just as the Hunts and Heatons did. The seminars will focus on important topics such as financing alternatives, understanding the medical and psychological reports of an adopted child, becoming familiar with the culture from which the child comes - whether domestic or international - and support for those parents already raising an adopted child.

It's doubtful that either of the couples could have envisioned the joy they have experienced with their sons, but because they have gone through it together, the journey is just that much more special. At the heart of everything is the friendship of two boys who loved each other enough that they would not be separated.

This story, although unique, is no more special or wonderful than the thousands of other adoption stories lived each year by families around the world. Kari and Ruth Ellen encourage other families to submit their inspiring stories to be shared in their monthly newsletter by emailing them to newsletter@motherscharm.com.

~ David Hunt

© 2003