Once upon a time there was a little boy who was cold, neglected, and very hungry. He had an older brother and sister who were around part of the time and helped him the best they could. His parents were usually nowhere to be found. As he was wandering the streets one day, he saw a piece of candy covered in dirt and ants and tried with all his might to clean it off so he could eat it. When I first heard about this little boy it made me feel sad. But, I happened to know the rest of the story in advance and knew it had a happy ending. You see, the little boy was my Dad. When he would tell childhood stories to me and my siblings, we knew he and his brother ended up in foster care and were ultimately adopted by the same Christian family who originally took them in. When he walked into their home for the first time and saw the fire in the fireplace, he thought he was in heaven. My Dad has such a different perspective on life than most. I’ve never heard him complain about a meal. He is thankful for each one. I’ve never heard him whine about hand-me-downs or driving an older car. He’s thankful just to have warm clothes and any kind of transportation besides his own feet. I’ve never heard him protest his older home that has needed repairs through the years. He’s grateful for a roof over his head and heat in the winter. As for me…I am so very thankful to my grandparents and their two boys who took my Dad in and gave him a home. I certainly wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for their love. And to this day, when I see a piece of candy on the ground, I think of that sweet little boy who would have been overjoyed to discover someone else’s carelessness.
Many thanks to those who have fostered and adopted children. You have done the work our Lord holds so dear and you are changing lives forever.
With the love of our Father,
“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.” James 1:27