I've always believed that people cross into our lives for a reason, and that God puts people in our path for reasons that may be unknown at the time. However, He always has a reason behind those people and sometimes the people we believe we are meant to help are the very ones who will one day save us.
It was a cold day in late December when I first meet Abby. She was just a babe in her mother's arms on the corner of 5th and Main. I slowed down as I saw the woman holding her wasn't a woman at all, but a child, no older than fifteen or sixteen years old. Her mother wore a thin jacket, one that couldn't protect against the sharp wind that was blowing that evening. Without a second thought, I pulled over to the shoulder, before exiting my car.
"Do you need some help?" I asked, approaching the two. The young mother pulled the baby close to her chest, as she shivered and took a step or two backwards. "Don't be frightened, my child. What's your name?"
"Grace, ma'am."
"Well, Grace," I began, opening the passenger door of my grey Toyota, "do you need shelter from the cold? My house isn't much, but you're welcome to stay if you need to."
Grace slid into the passenger seat, the small infant still in her arms. I got back into my car and started the drive back to my house. We spoke very little on the ride, though I did learn that the young girl's name was Abby, and that Grace had been kicked out of her house two weeks after Abby had been born. Abby's father had abandoned them when Grace had refused to have an abortion, believing that even if her baby didn't have a father that at least the baby would be living.
I gave Grace the spare bedroom, and set up a cradle for Abby that my youngest had outgrown two years prior. Currently I had four children, two from a marriage that had gone down the drain, and two I was fostering at the time. They were all curious about the new faces, and gathered around the cradle to see the small baby girl.
I quickly introduced the children to Grace, not bothering to explain that two of them were not technically mine. I introduced them as always from oldest to youngest: Christopher, Mary-Anne, Josie, and Tyler. Grace smiled at them, a shy smile, before I ushered them out of the room, so that they would finish their chores.
Grace stayed with us for two days;during that time I had prepared a small nursery for Abby in the small room where Grace stayed. It wasn't large but had enough space to hold a dresser, bed, and crib. The walls were scarcely decorated, though I told Grace she was free to decorate as she pleased.
One the third day, Grace asked me to help her draw up papers saying that if anything was to happen to her that I would take in her daughter. I was more than happy to sign the papers, though I never would have done so had I known what Grace was planning. I even had my lawyer, a kind, helpful woman, sign and finalize the papers, so that they were legal documents. That night was the last night that I saw Grace.
I found a note by the crib the next morning, when I went to see why Abby was crying.
Thank you so much for your kindness. Abby needs a better life than I can afford to give to her, a life that you can. Please, raise her as you would your own.
Love, Grace.662Please respect copyright.PENANAGHTlMRfDRf
And that was how it came that I was tasked the the job of raising the daughter of Grace, with the goal to one day reunite her with the woman who wouldn't get the proper chance to raise her, because she herself was never given a chance.662Please respect copyright.PENANAYNPUdITdvt
662Please respect copyright.PENANA3ym8IYnB2B