What Now for the Orphans of Russia?

I never will forget the first time I met a Russian orphan who had just been adopted by American parents.

It was 2003, and I was on a flight out of Moscow. A little boy with big brown eyes sat in the seat next to me. A man sat on the other side of the boy, and it was clear from their clenched hands that they were traveling together.

I was scribbling in a notebook when I noticed that the child was leaning over, trying to read. I smiled and asked his name.

“He doesn’t speak much English,” the man said, smiling. “My wife and I just adopted him and his younger sister.” He pointed to a...