Kristin's Special Little Boy

On a chilly November night in 2002 a little boy in Slovene Village captured my heart. His blond Shirley Temple curls and freckled face stood out in Liz’s singing class even though he was so small that he could barely see over the desk. He was so cute I just wanted to pack him in one of my suitcases and take him home with me.

I took several photos of "my little boy" during our short visit to Slovene Village that night. My favorite still sits in a frame on one of my office filing cabinets. I learned many months later that his name is Hadji (Haxhi in Albanian). Hadji is now seven years old and still lives in Slovene Village.

Tuesday night we were reunited.

Liz knew I was fond of Hadji and had one of the mothers in the camp arrange a meeting. As we walked in the direction of his home, Hadji came running up one of Slovene’s crushed rock paths. I instantly picked him up and gave him a huge hug. He hugged me right back.

Hadji is much taller now and his hair has been trimmed into a military-style cut. But his big eyes and freckles are just the way I remember them.

Keith and I tried to have a conversation with him through an interpreter but Hadji barely made a noise when answering our questions. We soon learned from his mother that Hadji has been sick with a sore throat. I am not a mother but I guess my motherly instincts kicked-in because I immediately wanted Mike Hartman to look at him.

Hadji held my hand as I led him to the field where Mike was standing. I wanted to cry when Mike told me Hadji’s tonsils were really swollen and he needed antibiotics. Despite his illness Hadji danced the night away with the rest of our group.

I had kept my eye on Hadji most of the night but lost track of him as our group was preparing to leave. Somehow his mother found the van I was sitting in and lifted Hadji so I could give the boy one last hug for the night.

I was expecting to see Hadji again on Thursday when our group visited Slovene one last time. My expectations were shattered when his mother told me that Hadji was at his uncle’s house in Gjakove resting after visiting a doctor. His mother must have seen the disappointment on my face because an hour later Hadji was back in Slovene.

He was clearly not feeling well but I was relieved when Mike told me Hadji’s throat looked much better. My spirits were lifted even more when his Hadji’s eyes were given a clean bill of health by Dr. Pete Korpi. I walked Hadji to his home and through pantomime told him he needed to rest. He plopped down on a bed with a few of the toy cars I brought for him. I kissed him on the top of his head and walked away with tears in my eyes.

To my surprise he re-appeared several minutes later with his mother. She thanked me for the gifts and said, "Hadji loves you very much." I replied, "I love him very much too." Liz later told me his mother would gladly let me take him home with me but I know that’s not practical.

Just as I was about to load into the van for the ride back to Gjakove Keith took one last picture of me holding Hadji. I know it will be the next framed picture in my office. I boarded the van and waved goodbye. Hadji smiled and waved back. Tears streamed down my cheeks and I couldn’t look back as we drove out of Slovene for the last time. I know I will probably never have the chance to give Hadji another hug.

It doesn’t matter. Hadji will always be my very special little boy.