I tell them the truth.
Yes, I was afraid.
I still get tired.
My knees hurt when I sit on the floor too long.
And keeping up with an eight-year-old is certainly not easy.
But I have never regretted bringing Lily home.
Not for one second.
Those five families had their reasons for walking away.
I don’t judge them.
But I wish someone had told them that a child’s complicated past does not make her less deserving of a beautiful future.
Lily wasn’t a problem to be solved.
She was a little girl who needed someone to stay.
And I did.
One evening, as I tucked her into bed, she wrapped her arms around my neck.
“Mom?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Did you know you were going to be my mom when you first saw me?”
I smiled.
“I didn’t know exactly what would happen. But I knew I wanted to make sure you weren’t alone anymore.”
She thought about that.
Then she whispered:
“I’m glad you found me.”
I kissed her forehead.
“Sweetheart, I think we found each other.”
She closed her eyes.
I sat beside her for a few more minutes, listening to her peaceful breathing.
Then I looked at the little photograph of Sarah on her bedside table.
And I whispered:
“Your little girl is loved. I promise you that.”
For the first time in many years, I no longer wondered whether my heart had anything left to give.
It did.
It had enough love for Lily.
Enough kindness for Margaret.
And enough room to remember the people I had lost without forgetting the people still beside me.
I
thought
I
was
adopting
a
little
girl
who
had
been
rejected
by
five
families.
But
I
was
actually
welcoming
a
little
girl
who
had
been
loved
all
along,
and
who
simply
needed
someone
to
bring
all
the
pieces
of
her
family
back
together.
And that is the greatest gift Lily ever gave me.
She taught me that sometimes, even at sixty-eight, life doesn’t stop giving you reasons to love.
Sometimes, it gives you a whole new family.
THE END. ❤️
