Where I Came From
Editor’s Note: My daughter Stacee has spent the last five weeks traveling with Holt Children’s Services, and serving as a camp counselor at their “Heritage Camps“. Stacee’s roommate, Grace Halverson — like herself — is an adoptee from Daegu Korea.
Grace volunteered to share her poem titled, “Where I Came From,” with my readers, and I am honored. Stacee has been collecting other writings from some of the children at the Heritage Camp retreat and I will be sharing these with all of you in upcoming magazine editions.
Where I Came From
They say that one thing happened–
The stories are few and different,
every time I hear something new.
It’s as if there is no truth
Living with a constant unknown,
never a clarity or a certainty.
My story was unfinished from the beginning.
It’s a confusing part of me
“What’s your real name?”
“Who are you really?”
People ask or they wonder silently.
What can I say short of a lie?
They are confused,
yet they have no right to ask.
I am the one without a clue.
I am the one without permanence.
They should not ask me to give them
something that I have never
been able to give myself:
“Who are your real parents?”
Parents: The people who raised me.
The people that gave me
Love, motivation, and strength.
But what do you mean by “real”?
What is really real?
What is truly true?
Is there really truth in reality?
I want you to know
without having to ask.
But if you have to ask
I’d rather you stay confused.
So my mouth remains wordless,
my voice without volume
because pity is something
I strongly resent.
Not by blood, nor by name,
nor by law do I belong…
From where I come is unknown,
but where I am now is my own choice,
my own life, my own story.
Where I’m from has no importance,
only that I am happy where I am now,
but as for the “who”
I will keep on searching.