By Sue Johnson
“You don’t care about me,” he yelled, face flushed with anger that had erupted yet again.
I nearly yelled back, “No, we don’t, Stephen,” but remembered the adoption lady’s words—about the number of times he’d been moved in his six years of life and the empty promises.
“You and Dave are the needles, Karen. Stephen’s the wool. Making a family is like learning to knit—it takes patience and sometimes goes wrong.”
I hugged him, felt the thud of his heartbeat. “I’ll tell you a story,” I whispered, “about a boy called Stephen who found a new Mummy and Daddy.”
Love it.
Your story has feeling and warmth. Really like it.
Excellent Sue