foster family

‘Wen, we’d like to adopt you.’ My body was burned and abandoned on a doorstep. I was given a second chance at life.’: Burn survivor adopted from foster care system, ‘I’m so lucky to be alive and in a loving family!’

“It all started with a fire. My biological parents had bills to pay. They gave me up, knowing they may never see me again. A family reached out. I had no idea what adoption was. They didn’t look like me or talk like me. Why were they handing me gifts? Why were my foster parents crying? I didn’t know what was happening. How could I? I was only 6. Soon, I was taken away.  Little did I know that plane ride would change my life forever. I was halfway across the world.”

‘What are you doing? STOP.’ An older gentleman approached me in the store. ‘You stole that baby!’: Mom adopts ‘beautiful white baby boy’ from foster care, claims ‘love is colorful!’

“‘I’m recording evidence to take to security,’ the older gentleman explained. He began photographing my son. ‘Why didn’t you let that baby stay with his kind?’ The first day that nurse handed me a 2-pound, beautiful white baby boy, I thought, ‘Is this a joke?’ Then, my motherly instincts kicked in. Not once in my mind or heart did I feel Princeton didn’t belong to me. I will ALWAYS choose him.”

‘Which way did he go?’ This was our great escape. My dad was a monster. I was sworn to secrecy.’: Woman credits foster parents for ‘saving’ her through ‘dark times,’ battling suicidal thoughts, sexual abuse, Bipolar disorder

“My friend asked if I wanted to stay the night. I couldn’t, but asked if she wanted to stay at my house. Before I could even finish, she told me ‘no.’ I shrugged it off, no big deal. A week later, she saw my whole family. That’s when I recognized the fear in her eyes. She had not seen my stepdad since then.”

‘You have no idea how good it feels to be part of a family. Thank you for letting me be here.’: Foster mom grateful her children are learning ‘what it means to love’ by welcoming strangers into their home

“My husband and I woke up to find this note on our counter one morning, written by the 12-year-old boy who was living with us. I have carried this note in my purse for a long time, so I could take it out and re-read it on the hard days. There’s also a letter with ‘Youth Correctional Center’ in the return address, tear-stained, begging us not to give up.”

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