Like Sir Lancelot of the Arthurian legends, who is widely known as King Arthur’s mightiest knight, Little John, the largest and strongest of Robin Hood’s Merry Men, may also have been of French origins.

The legends of Robin Hood, though they take place at least two centuries later than those of King Arthur, are nevertheless just as obscure and difficult to verify (or dispute) historically.  However, many tales place Robin Hood’s adventures in the late twelfth century, when King Richard the Lionhearted was being held for ransom by the Holy Roman Emperor after his infamous capture in Vienna while trying to return home from the Crusades in disguise.

There was deep-seated resentment across Europe to the holding of a national sovereign for money by the Church.  Many felt (though few dared to say so openly) that the Church had overstepped her bounds, and that their own states were vulnerable to the same tactics if they were tolerated.

Jean Petit of Paris was one vocal opponent of the imprisonment of King Richard, until his own King Philip started to openly support the Church’s position.  Kings Richard and Philip were known to have deep differences, even while allied in the Crusades.  Philip is widely held to have believed Richard was to blame for their failure.

Whatever the cause of Philip’s stance, Jean Petit was forced from then on to keep silence, and work in secret.  It’s at this point that his designs fell into obscurity, and little is known about his life after this time. Described in literature as a man “of uncommon size and strength,” he also displayed “surprising eloquence, and education of the highest quality.” Yet neither his eloquence nor his physical presence allowed him to work openly anymore.

One persistent rumor was that Jean Petit, having given up on changing the opinions of the crowned heads of Europe (much less of the Holy Roman Empire), decided to work for Richard’s release, and so at least reduce (or cut short) the humiliation of a European king.  There was no better place to do this than in England, where heavy taxes were being levied to collect the ransom money.

This is but one rumor of many, yet it is easy to conjecture that, if he found a lot of corruption in the tax collection methods of the English feudal system, he might have sought alternate means to collect the money.  Many of the tales of Robin Hood say that, in addition to “giving to the poor”, the Band of Merry Men “took from the rich” to make certain that funds intended for the release of King Richard actually went toward that goal. Some even suggest that Robin Hood made the final payment to the Church in Rome that secured Richard’s release.

What better organization could there have been for Jean Petit, a disenfranchised Frenchman with many of the same goals in mind, to join? It’s easy to recreate the famous tale of Robin Hood meeting this large man named “Petit”, who probably did twirl a mean quarterstaff, and laughing at the name – as easily as if his name had been “John Little”, as the English tales recount.  It’s certainly possible that Jean Petit translated the name himself before meeting Robin Hood, to hide his identity.

We will probably never be able to make any more of this speculation, already shrouded in centuries of obscurity, but it’s fun to think about. Have the English always needed a Frenchman to do their toughest fighting?

I wrote this on May 3, 2005, just days before leaving for China. We were excited, but we knew the times ahead might not be easy for any of us.

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Welcome, Dani! Welcome to our life.

We’ve been working to bring you home since before you were born, and we’re coming to get you soon.

You don’t know us. We sent pictures to your orphanage. Maybe you’ve seen them; maybe you haven’t. But we’re going to be your family — your mom and your dad and your big brother.

You didn’t ask to be in our family. But we spent a year talking to the government, in Virginia, the US, and China. They all agreed we’d be a good family for a little girl to be a part of. Then the Chinese government picked you out just for us, and we’re very excited about bringing you home.

We’ve agreed, and the governments have agreed, but you haven’t agreed yet — but we hope you will, very soon. We hope you’ll call us Mommy and Daddy and “my brother, David”. We hope you’ll be happy when you say those things. We will try to be as loving and nurturing a family as you could want. We won’t be perfect all the time, but we’ll do our very best.

So, Dani, please give this new family of yours a chance. Let us reach out to you with loving words you’ll soon come to understand, and with tenderness and caring we hope you’ll understand right away. We’ll try to make this the last big change you’ll have to go through for a very long time.

Cry, if you need to; we’ll hold you and dry your tears. Grieve if you need to; we’ll be there when you’re ready to start a new life with us. We’d love for you to be happy with us right away, but our hope is simply that you’ll come to love us once you know us better.

We love you already.

Welcome, Dani! Welcome to our life.

We’ll come for you soon.

On March 17, 2005 (St. Patrick’s Day, for what it’s worth), we got our child match email from CCAI. The next day, we got a FedEx packet, with pictures, medical information, and the address for the orphanage. Within days, we put together a “care package” with toys, clothes, a single-use camera, and a small, soft “Who Loves Baby?” photo album with between six and eight 3×5 photos of her new family. As we waited for our travel date to come, still well over a month in the future, it helped to think about how she might react to the package. We actually have a picture of the nanny showing Dani her album, so we know some of it’s true. Here’s the piece I wrote in late March, while trying to wait.

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Ze Ling has had a typical, but pleasant, afternoon. Most of her favorite toys have been available at one time or another, and her second-favorite Lady has been around. While many kids have moms and dads, Ze Ling has Ladies. She likes her Ladies. They play with her and smile at her and they just let her play by herself when she wants to — except when it’s nap time or bed time or eating time.

Two Ladies come in, calling her name, and she looks up. They have a box. Ze Ling likes boxes. You can put things in them, and take them back out. Sometimes, if it’s big enough, you can put your head in a box, or even your whole self. They’re lots and lots of fun. This box looks big enough for her head, but not big enough for her whole self. The Ladies are smiling big. One has a tear in her eye, but she’s still smiling. Ze Ling likes to smile, and she likes to see smiles. She smiles back at them.

They open the box, and she reaches in impulsively, and pulls out some clothing. Her interest in that is limited. She could play with it, but she has clothes on already, and there’s more inside the box. They show her a toy frog. “It’s a frog,” they tell her. “Look at the frog!” When she picks up the frog, it makes a noise! She drops it, and it makes the noise again! Now, here’s something that deserves some attention! Pick it up. CROAK! Put it down. CROAK! Wiggle it. CROAK! Put it down carefully. No noise. Slap it. CROAK! So many ways to make it croak!

They show her a plastic book with pictures in it. She glances back at the frog, but the Ladies seem insistent. Still smiling, but insistent. So she looks at the pictures. There seem to be three different people. In one picture, all three are together. In some, just the two bigger ones are together. In others, just one of them is there. The people have strange hair, and one of them has blue eyes. Their faces look a little strange, but they’re all smiling. In every picture, they’re smiling. The Ladies are using strange words: “Mother”, “Father”, “Brother”. They sound like happy words coming from the Ladies’ mouths, so she smiles again.

The box also contains a FlashyThing. She’s seen FlashyThings before. Usually, one of her Ladies (or some other adult) will hold the FlashyThing in front of her face, covering at least one eye, and then sometimes it will make a bright flash. Sometimes, it doesn’t, but people always act a little strangely in front of the FlashyThing — holding still, and making big smiles. One of the Ladies picks up the FlashyThing, and Ze Ling smiles, but holds her eyes shut. No flash. She opens her eyes. FLASH! Somehow, those FlashyThings always know when her eyes open again! No, not always. Sometimes, she can trick them.

The frog from the box is still there, and she plays with it again. Drop. CROAK! Drop. CROAK! Wiggle. CROAK! Just about every day, a Lady shows her the pictures of the smiling people, using those words again: “Mother.” “Father.” “Brother.” Soon, both the pictures and the words are familiar to her, and she sometimes gets the book and looks at it herself. Most of the toys are shared with the other kids — even the new frog. But those pictures seem to be just for her, and she comes to think that they’re smiling at her. Maybe, she thinks, those are real people, and they’ll come see her someday, and she’ll smile right back at them.

On April 20, 2004, we were just beginning the process of adopting Dani. The exact source of the quote below is lost, but it can be found all over the Web, especially with reference to adopting from China. So, I sent this piece, based on the quote, in an email to my wife, who forwarded it to a few of her friends. One very special friendship was started due to this piece. But possibly the most remarkable thing about this piece is the date on which I wrote it. April 20, 2004 is Dani’s estimated (and now, official) birthdate. It’s possible she was being born the very moment I wrote this.

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“An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but never break.”

I imagine the thread wound around hills, trees, buildings, and other threads, in such a way that you can never really tell which direction the thread is leading you. You just have to follow it, in whatever zigzag pattern it’s stretched itself into. And, since you have many threads, and many duties, you will sometimes work to untangle a thread while tangling others. At other times, you will untangle many threads at the same time — these times will feel very good and right.

The hills, trees, and buildings that tangle the threads in my picture of it are symbolic — metaphors for the barriers in life that continually change our direction; making straight, simple paths rare, and widely wandering paths the norm. It’s rare, when we take a path, that we really know where it will lead us, except in the very short term. Even when the end is what we expect, it’s very, very rare for the path to remain unchanged for the duration of the journey. The way I see it, these threads are paths — you can follow them — but, when you stop following them, they follow you, exacting no price other than the fact that they may get more complex if you leave them alone too long.

Just today, when I saw the quote again, I was struck by the fact that the threads are both invisible and red. This is impossible for any actual physical object, since color is a visible phenomenon. And so I’m given to wonder what the redness signifies and how it is perceived. Ignorant of any intended meaning, I let the red feel warm, comforting, like my own body’s blood in my veins. It is the red of working, vital blood, rather than spilled blood. It is that warmth that you sense when following a thread. You follow a thread by instinct, using your senses and logic when they apply, when they feel right. But you can’t see the thread; you can only feel it.

The ability to put oneself in another’s shoes is fundamental to most meaningful relationships. I’ve found this especially true in parenting. It sometimes takes an extra effort of will – the child’s situation can be so different.

When Dani came home, it was very difficult. She wouldn’t let us out of her sight, she cried and screamed, sometimes over the slightest things, and she fought going to sleep, keeping us up late into the night. And so I wrote the following piece to help me cope.

Ah-YA-ya is David, her big brother, eleven at the time. “Na-na-na” is the cry she used when we first picked her up. We thought it might be for her nanny. A report we got from her nanny said she’d sometimes hit other children who were getting attention that she wanted. Ma-ma and Ba-ba are the Mandarin words for mother and father, and she used them for a while. Anyway, this is what I wrote:

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My name is Dani. That’s my name right now. I have had other names, back when I knew other people.

Right now, I have a Ma-ma, a Ba-ba, and an Ah-YA-ya. They all call me Dani, or Dan-Dan, or sometimes other names. But my name is Dani right now.

I used to have a Na-na-na, and people called me Ze Ling or Ling Ling. And I think I had another name, too, at a different time. But I’m not sure.

I learned a lot about life with my Na-na-na. My Na-na-na took care of me, but there were babies around, too. The babies were about my size, but they were not like me. When they fell down, it didn’t hurt me, like when I fall down. When they ate, I didn’t get any less hungry.

When it was time to eat, my Na-na-na would sit me and the babies in a circle, and she would give us a bottle, or spoon feed us. Sometimes, when she was done, I would still be hungry. But I wouldn’t get any more to eat for a long time. If I cried, and said, “Eh! Eh! Eh!”, I got more food. The spoon or bottle would go into my mouth more times, and I wouldn’t be as hungry when my Na-na-na was finished. Sometimes, I would still be hungry when she was done, but not as hungry, and not as often.

When I go to sleep, people go away. Sometimes they come back, and sometimes they don’t.

I did have another name, other than Dani and Dan-Dan, Ze Ling and Ling Ling. I woke up and there were strange noises, and bright sunlight, and my blanket. I cried, and new people came and found me. The old people never came back. And I got my Na-na-na. Sometimes, I would fall asleep, and she would come back after I woke up.

One day, Ma-ma, Ba-ba, and Ah-YA-ya came to see me. They were from pictures, and my Na-na-na showed them to me. She showed me the pictures, then she showed me the real people. When the real people came, she went away.

When my Na-na-na goes away, I call for her. I cry, because I’m upset. I don’t want my Na-na-na to go away. Sometimes, she will stay for a while and give me kisses. She loves me, I think.

When she left me with Ma-ma and Ba-ba and Ah-YA-ya, it was outrageous. I made my angry cry. I made my afraid cry. I made my loudest, loudest cry. She came back once, but then went away again. And then Ba-ba took me away, and took me inside a room with windows, and sat down. Ma-ma and Ah-YA-ya came, too. And a whole bunch of big people and babies sat in the same room. The room moved. Trees and buildings passed by the windows. I had a lot to look at. Then I fell asleep. When I woke up, my Na-na-na was not there, and she never came back.

Sometimes I like my Ba-ba best, sometimes I like my Ma-ma best, and sometimes I like my Ah-YA-ya best. I might sometimes like my Na-na-na best, too, but she never comes back. Letting anybody that I like best out of my sight is not safe. I never know how long it will take them to come back. And they might never come back.

Letting someone else have someone I like best is not safe. Sometimes, my Na-na-na would play with the babies instead of me. They’d get attention that I didn’t get, hugs I didn’t get, and kisses I didn’t get. I like attention, hugs, and kisses. Sometimes, my Na-na-na would spend almost all her time with the babies instead of me. I learned not to let that happen. The babies have no right to take my Na-na-na away, and I’ll fight for her time if I have to. I’ll hit and slap and scratch and cry.

Going to sleep is not safe. Almost every time I wake up, I’m alone. I don’t want to be alone. I need people to feed me. I need attention from people. I need hugs and kisses. I can’t get any of this if everyone goes away.

Waiting quietly for food is not safe. Any food I don’t get right away might get fed to someone else. It might disappear altogether. I might have to stay hungry, just because I didn’t speak up, or because I wasn’t loud enough. I will not make that mistake.

My name is Dani today. Maybe tomorrow I’ll be Ling Ling again, and my Na-na-na will come back. Or maybe I’ll have my other name, or a new name, with new people. But I’ll take my lessons with me, whatever my name is. I wish I could have the same name and the same people all the time. It scares me to keep changing. Every time my name changes, a whole lot of other things change, too. And maybe I won’t like my next name and my next people. But now I know how to take care of me, and how to keep myself safe, so nobody else gets all the food and hugs and kisses and attentention that should be for me.

Ma-ma and Ba-ba and Ah-YA-ya are my people today. I’ll keep them if I can.