My hero is...

When she first came to us she was a sad, angry, sorrowful and terrified little slip of a girl. She wailed, refused, rebuffed, and lashed out with demands, fighting us tooth and nail for household top billing status. She tried hard to prove herself fierce.

Learning her initial methods would not be rewarded, she quickly changed course and became excessively compliant, nervous to make a mistake, unjustly self critical, overly eager to please, always teetering on eggshells.

Today I am so, so pleased to say this young lady is coming into her own. She is ever gaining in confidence and assurance and acceptance of who she is. She is learning to find and use her own voice and to far more comfortably exist. Our relationship has grown by leaps and bounds as she develops the ability to express herself and make who she really is known.

Meadow wrote this enormously sweet and heart warming and validating and encouraging paper earlier this week.

It reads:

My mom is my hero because she gave me a great home. The place I used to be in had no food, water, good clothing or anything you need. I needed a place to be that had good things. My mother from Africa died. But I still had my father. He could not take care of me. He put me in the orphanage. He did not want to but he had to. My mom came to give me a home. This is the mom I have now. She came and got me and my brother. So not only is she my hero but my brother's too. That is how she became my hero.

I would like take a moment to return the sentiment.

My hero is....

My hero is my beloved daughter, Meadow.

She endured such great heartache at a tremendously tender age and she continues to defy the weightiness of her significant loss that threatens to pull her toward despair. Time and again, through no lack of labor, she proves herself triumphant.

With the long, lithe figure of an Ethiopian runner, she is a true beauty, both inside and out. Wonderfully gentle and graced with extraordinary kindness, her lovely nature is a perfect match for her physical appearance.

She has granted me endless mercy as I've often clumsily learned what it means to mother another mother's child. For that, I can not express enough gratitude.

Never one to complain and always ready to assist, she is a darling sister, an easy friend, a helpful daughter. Patient to no end, one day, she will make a remarkable mother.

She is a gift to me - a teacher to my mind, a tenderizer to my heart, a nourisher to my soul.

She is absolutely right, her first father wanted her. I too wanted her. The father she has now wanted her. God wants her. She is quadruply, infinitely wanted.

Meadow, thank you for entering my heart, cracking it wide open and helping it grow bigger.

Love you baby girl.