“Good answer.”
The process took months.
Training. Interviews. Home visits. Background checks. Conversations about trauma that sometimes sent me home crying in my car.
Then one afternoon, Denise invited me to an agency event where prospective parents could meet some of the children.
Most of the younger kids were playing.
The boy immediately put down his book and crouched to help her.
One teenage boy sat alone beside a window with a paperback open on his knees.
A little girl nearby knocked over a box of crayons.
The boy immediately put down his book and crouched to help her.
He even crawled beneath a table for the last blue crayon.
Then he returned to his chair.
When she saw who I was looking at, her expression changed.
I nodded toward him.
