Adopted


Children are an heritage of the Lord (Ps. 127:3).

I’m adopted. That means that the mommy and daddy I live with aren’t the ones I was born to. Another lady grew me inside of her. After I was born, she couldn’t keep me, so I was given to Mommy and Daddy and became their very own little girl. They take care of me. They love me, hug and kiss me, teach me, and correct me when I’ve done something wrong.

I can’t remember being adopted, because I was a little baby then. I do remember, though, when we adopted my little brother, Joey. Every night for a long, long time we prayed that Heavenly Father would send us a baby. You see, to adopt a baby isn’t easy.

We also visited a social worker, Brother James, a lot. He came to our house once and looked at where the baby would sleep, and he said that my room was very pretty. Mostly, though, we went to see him at the stake center. He’s our good friend.

We had to wait a long time for our turn to get a baby. I can’t understand how Heavenly Father decides when people should get a baby. My best friend has lots and lots of kids in her family. Her mommy had two babies while we were waiting to adopt Joey. When I told Mommy that it wasn’t fair, she just said that we needed to be patient. Heavenly Father has different plans for different people, and He knows best.

Then it happened! One night the social worker called our house. Daddy was at a meeting, but Mommy was home and talked to Brother James. He said he had a baby boy for us to come and see! The baby had dark brown hair and dark eyes. Brother James said, “He looks a lot like your daughter.”

“He must be beautiful then!” declared Mommy.

Oh, it was exciting!

It takes four hours to drive from our house to Brother James’ office, so we had to wait till the next day. I must have asked a lot of questions on the way, because about halfway there, Mommy said, “I’ve already told you fifty times everything I know about the baby, so please don’t ask again! I’m just as anxious as you are to see him.” Daddy suggested that I take a nap in the back seat, but I couldn’t sleep. Instead, I sang “Old MacDonald Had a Farm” with every animal I could think of, and then I sang it again.

Finally we arrived at the LDS Social Services building. I couldn’t help but jump up and down while we waited for the elevator. Mommy said she felt like jumping up and down, too, but she just stood there. Then, when we walked into the office, we had to sit down in a little waiting room. I looked all around, but I couldn’t see a baby, just a secretary. I listened, but I couldn’t hear a baby, either.

When Brother James came, Mommy and Daddy and I went into his office. But still no baby! I asked Mommy where the baby was, and she said that we needed to talk to Brother James first. They talked for a while, and I thought that maybe they had forgotten or something, so I asked again.

This time Brother James heard me. “Would you like to go see the baby now?” he asked.

I nodded, and Mommy nodded, and Daddy said, “Yes we would.”

Brother James took us to another room on the other side of the waiting room. There, on a little blue blanket on the carpet, was a little baby with dark brown hair. He was sound asleep! Mommy carefully picked him up. He opened his eyes and looked at us, and we looked at him.

“He has a big nose,” Mommy said.

“Just like Grandpa,” said Daddy.

“May I hold him?” I asked.

I held him, and Daddy held him, and Mommy held him again. We knew that Heavenly Father had figured it out just right. We brought Joey home with us. He is my little brother.

When Joey was a little bigger, we took him to the judge. The judge was a grandpa who wore a long black dress over his regular clothes. He showed us pictures of his grandchildren and held Joey on his lap. He patted my head and wrote on some papers, and that made Joey’s adoption final.

“Almost final,” Mommy said. It was final when we all went to the temple so that Joey could be sealed to us forever and ever. Joey was such a good baby in the temple. He acted as if he understood how important it was.

Now Joey is getting bigger and bigger, and I am too. We play together, and sometimes we fight together, but he is my brother and I am his sister. Mommy and Daddy are our mommy and daddy who love us, and we love them, and that is what it means to be adopted.

[illustrations] Illustrated by Paul Mann