I knew my adoption story for as long as I can remember.

I was so familiar with it that I

believed everyone had stories like mine. When I was five, I went to my friend Amelias birthday
party. Her mother was hugely pregnant, and I was fascinated when she told me there was a baby
inside her. When I came home I asked my mom, grinning, Remember when I was in your
tummy? She said, No, Sarah. You lived in your birth mothers tummy in China until you were
born. It wasnt until that moment that I felt what it meant to be adopted. It meant not living with
my birth parents. I felt as though a part of me had been lost because I would never know them.
This was often on my mind and at any given moment the surge of emotions would overflow,
bringing me to tears.
I never understood how I fit into my adopted family until I had to research my family
history for my Bat Mitzvah. At first I wanted to research my birth familys history, but I had no
information about them. I did not have the basic elements that define a persons identity. My
name abandoned me when my parents left me, and a new one was given to me when I arrived at
the orphanage. My place of origin is untraceable, which leaves the orphanage as my starting
point of what I knew about myself. When I was ten, I visited my orphanage where I learned for
the first time that I had a foster family for a year. A third family. I was frustrated because I did
not know which identity to unearth. I was not sure if my parents family history belonged to me.
I told my Bible mentor my concern and he suggested the Book of Ruth, which he described as an
adoption story.
The story is, an Israelite family moved to Moab during a famine in Bethlehem, and the
two sons married Moabite women. The men died, the famine ended, and the mother, Naomi,
decided to go home. The two daughters-in-law wanted to return with Naomi, but she warned
them of prejudice against non-Jewish women, and said they would have a better chance to
remarry in Moab. Only one, Ruth, insisted on going with her. Ruth says to Naomi, Where you
go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people... (Ruth 1:16) Ruth
returned to Bethlehem with Naomi. Although life was difficult, Ruth worked hard to take care of
Naomi because she loved her. Ruth gleaned the fields of a Jewish farmer named Boaz who so
admired her character that he fell in love and married her, despite his peoples prejudice against
Moabites.
After reading Ruths story, I discovered that I identified with the idea of building a family
through choice and love. Ruth chose to be Naomis family because she loved her. My parents
chose me to be their family, and similar to Naomi, despite the differences in our heritage, we
became a family because of our love for each other. Ruths story helped me understand part of
my own identity. I, like Ruth, chose Judaism out of love. When I joined my adopted parents,
their heritage became my heritage. They welcomed me with love, and in that acceptance and
commitment, love, not blood, is the source of our family bond.