High school graduation was just around the corner. In a few weeks my son, Andy, would be getting his diploma. “The senior class is featured in my paper today,” my mom called to tell me. “Come on over and we’ll admire Andy!”
My husband, Cliff, came with me for the drive. On the way over, we talked about how soon Andy would graduate. It would be strange not having a child at home. Empty nest, they called it.
Cliff had taken to calling it “our time.” Just the two of us, with our only child away. We’d always planned to have more children, but after two miscarriages, countless doctor visits and lots of prayers, it was clear we just weren’t meant to have another baby.
At one point, I’d suggested foster parenting, but Cliff wasn’t enthusiastic about the idea. I’d long ago given up hope of raising any more children.
Andy is enough, I told myself when we got to Mom’s. He looked so handsome in his senior picture. “This is going right in the scrapbook,” I said, pulling out the page with Andy and his classmates.
Mom folded the rest of the paper and frowned at the headlines. “Have you been following this story?” she said, pointing. “About the little girl here in town?”
I hadn’t. “She’s six weeks old,” Mom said. “Her father was arrested for child abuse. She’s in the hospital.”
I read the article about the unnamed little girl, each horrible word ringing in my head: head trauma, lacerated larynx, rib fractures…
“She was transported by air to the children’s hospital in a coma,” I said. My eyes filled with tears, blurring the page. “They don’t know if she’ll make it.”
I couldn’t read another word. Who could do such a thing to a precious little girl?
“If only we could have her,” I whispered. “We’d keep her safe.” I dropped the paper and ran to the bathroom.
I dried my eyes and splashed water on my face. It was unrealistic to think I could do anything for that child. The world could be harsh and cruel. Help was out of my reach.
All I could do was pray. Pray for angels to surround that little girl, heal her and keep her safe from harm. God knew her name; I didn’t have to. If I can do anything more, Lord—anything—please show me how.
When I came out of the bathroom, Cliff was holding the newspaper. His face was pale and more serious than I’d ever seen. “You’re right,” he said, “about being foster parents. We have to help. At least one child.”
Mom was glad she’d pointed out the sad story. And to think how easily we might have missed this opportunity to do some good in the world! Cliff and I couldn’t get home fast enough to call the county and find out how to get licensed.
While Andy looked for his first job as a high school graduate, his dad and I took classes on what to expect as foster parents. Our license hadn’t even officially arrived before the county called us about a child.
“She’s not yet seven months old,” the coordinator said. “Developmentally delayed. What do you think?”
I thought of the child we’d read about in the paper. I wondered if she’d survived. If she had, and I feared it was unlikely, who knew what kind of consequences she’d have to live with for the rest of her life?
Of course we wanted this child. We wanted any child who needed our help. This was my way of doing all I could for children like that little girl in the paper.
“Absolutely,” I told the coordinator. “She’s perfect for us.” Our nest hadn’t been empty for long.
The social worker warned us not to get too attached to Brianna. I knew the reality of the situation. We would only have her in our home a short while before she was returned to her biological mother.
I understood. I got the house ready while Cliff went to pick up the baby.
Next thing I knew they were standing in our doorway. Cliff handed me the baby. When I took her in my arms, all I’d learned fell away. It felt like the first time I’d cradled Andy close.
My head knew Brianna would only be with us for a short time, but in my heart I was holding my own baby. How am I ever going to give her back? I thought. One look at Cliff’s face told me he, too, had fallen in love.
“We’ll love her as much as we can for as long as we can,” I said. That’s what this was really about, after all. Not my wish for a baby, but helping a child who needed me.
As beautiful as Brianna was, she had real challenges ahead of her. She couldn’t sit up or hold a bottle and didn’t much like to be held. She didn’t cry because she didn’t think anyone cared if she did.
Cliff and I were determined to change all that. Slowly, day by day, Brianna started to accept us. She no longer stiffened when I took her in my arms.
Finally one day I was folding laundry when I heard a sound from Brianna’s crib. Brianna was crying. Music to my ears!
“It sounds like you are really getting along!” the social worker said during one of her regular visits. I rocked Brianna in my arms. Her mouth curved into a tiny smile.
“It’s so good to see her acting like a baby,” the social worker said. “She’s been through so much. You probably read about it in the papers. She was in a coma when they transported her to the children’s hospital.”
Cliff and I both gasped. Brianna—our Brianna—was the baby in the paper? She was the reason we’d applied to be foster parents, to help children like her. But we never dreamed we would wind up caring for the very child who had inspired us!
“I think an angel brought Brianna to us,” I told Cliff that night. Mom agreed, remembering the roundabout way everything seemed to fall into place. A newspaper story had changed our lives forever. We knew our journey as foster parents was just beginning.
Despite the social worker’s warnings, Brianna remained with us as the months went by. She became like a daughter to Cliff and me, and a beloved little sister to Andy. We cherished each day we had with her. Brianna thrived under our care.
Eventually Brianna’s birth mother decided the best thing for her daughter was to let her remain in our family, who already loved her as one of our own. Today she is a happy, healthy five-year-old in her first year of kindergarten.
She’s also a big sister to a boy we’re hoping to adopt. Our nest would never be empty. Not with so many angels filling it with love.
Download your FREE ebook, The Power of Hope: 7 Inspirational Stories of People Rediscovering Faith, Hope and Love.
