My name is Oksana, and it means “glory to God.” I was born in Russia, and I’ve never met my birth parents, because I was given to an orphanage in Siberia. During my time at the orphanage, I met a girl named Olga. Growing up, we became close friends. We ‘d hang around outside the orphanage and talk about the future, how we wanted to live together some day. When winter came, we’d throw snowballs or make a snowman together.
Often, I’d draw a picture for Olga, and then she’d give me something of hers. When Olga would cry, I’d run to comfort her. But in 1999, when I was 11 years old, an American family adopted Olga. It was a sad moment for me.
Waiting for a Family
When Olga got to America, she started forgetting some of her Russian as she started to learn English. When she learned enough to communicate, she told her family about me and how she missed the days when we used to play together at the orphanage. Her new parents started praying for wisdom about returning to the orphanage to bring clothes and other supplies. This would be a huge blessing, because in the orphanage we had to share everything, even our clothes and underwear! Once you were older, you could get a job and buy your own clothes. The orphanage was also low on socks and toilet paper (sometimes we had to use pages from old books).
About a year later, God told Olga’s mom that they needed to go back to Siberia and get Olga’s best friend—me! Her mom had a lot of questions, but God told her, “Everything is going to be all right, just trust Me.” So they started to work on the adoption paperwork.
During this time, some X-rays were taken of me to see if I was healthy enough to go to the U.S. The X-ray showed I had cancer. My future family found out, and they just started to pray. They knew that God told them to go get me, so they just needed to trust Him. My future family asked the doctors to take another X-ray to make sure there wasn’t a mistake. So they did, and the cancer was gone!
A few months later, Sept. 11 happened during the time I was expecting my new family to come and get me. I was 13, and I waited for them day after day. Some of the orphanage workers told me that my future family might have been on one of the planes that crashed. But I didn’t believe them.
One day I came home to the orphanage after school, and the workers told me not to change out of my school clothes. I was in the bedroom that I shared with 12 other girls when two of my friends came in and started to ask if I’d seen Olga yet, and they talked about how long her hair had gotten. I started to jump up and down, and my heart started beating really fast. I felt so many happy emotions at the same time! One of the workers came in and said, “Girls, it was supposed to be a surprise for her!”
I came out of the bedroom and saw Olga. I hugged her, but she was too timid to hug me back. I got lots of gifts from Olga’s family, and all the other girls would run to me and ask to see my new things. Since the orphanage was so poor, they were happy to just hold something they’d never seen before.
Everyone wanted to get adopted and go to America because of the freedom there. I was the lucky one who got to go! But sometimes I wish that I could go back and get all my friends and bring them to America, too.
When I arrived in America, I didn’t know English at all because I was learning German at school, and I had no idea that I’d get adopted. Learning English was really hard for me, but I learned it in about two years (and I’m still learning!). Once I came home to the U.S., Olga could still understand my Russian, but couldn’t speak it very well any more. So she helped me to communicate, but my family still had to show me everything by made-up sign language!
When we went to church, I wasn’t happy about it, because I didn’t know English, and the service was too long! But I saw something I’d never seen before: joy in people’s lives. I was a really bad kid in Russia, and I was never happy like the people at church. As the months passed, I started to listen to more of the service as I understood more English, and I even started to sing the worship songs, even though I didn’t know what the words meant.
One of His Children
In my new home, I shared a room with Olga, and we had bunk beds. Almost every night, she’d sit on my bed and tell me about Jesus and how He’s coming back. I was home schooled, and my mom would tell me Bible stories as I learned English. Looking back now, I realize that I was hungry for God. I was asking questions about God, and for my first birthday in America, I asked for a Bible.
Not long after I’d arrived in the U.S., the doctors discovered a tumor in my left ear. It was so close to my brain that I could’ve died, and I wasn’t a believer then. It took two surgeries to get it out, and through God’s amazing grace, I still have my hearing left in that ear.
Two years after being adopted and moving to the U.S., I gave my life to the Lord! He’s changed me so much since then. He’s using my talent, which is drawing, along with my testimony of how I came to know Him to touch other people’s lives. I love to read the Bible, and I understand what Jesus is saying in the parables.
Even though I miss Russia and the snow, I know God has great plans for my life, and He’s placed me here in the Sunshine State—Florida! If I had said no in the Russian court to being adopted, I would’ve never had hope. I’d probably be drinking, smoking and doing other bad stuff. But God had me in mind to be one of His children. He is so amazing!
