When I was about three years of age, I was placed into an orphanage with kids about the same age as me. At that time I did not know what was happening, or why I was going there. All that I remember about that day is that an old man with grey hair, a long scruffy beard, and a long-sleeve flannel shirt. I assume that he was my grandfather, but I still haven’t been able to confirm that. Some of the days while I was in the orphanage seemed to drag on for weeks at a time. The orphanage was really big; it was shaped like the letter E, if it was looked at from the sky. While some children played on the well designed play areas, the other children slept in beds for a majority of the day. If any child got up out of their bed, they would get the slipper on their bottom. As any child would do, I kept testing the staff that was in charge of the children sleeping. I was the only one getting the slipper and the other children would be laughing at me. This sometimes would go one for the whole day, but then I realized that it was not getting me anywhere. The children only ate breakfast and dinner; sometimes you wouldn’t get anything if you were very bad.
In addition, the only thing that I did not know was that I was going to be adopted. When a mother and a father, about the age of forty to forty-five, came to the orphanage and asked if they could meet me and young boy who was name Sasha. Little did I know that Sasha was my brother. The mother and father told me that he had come to the orphanage when he was about two or three years of age. The main reason that this couple was at the orphanage was to adopt Sasha and me. This happened over a four week period, where they would visit us during the week, bringing toys, and clothing for us. When the adoption was finalized over in Borovichi Russia, we as a new family flew over the vast clear blue sea to the United States of America. As we