I have to add another post about our trip to Traverse City. As many of you may know, two of my children are adopted from Sierra Leone. That’s in Africa…just in case you didn’t know.
That means they are black–just to be clear.
We went to lunch one day at a local eatery, called Don’s Drive In. It’s painted bright pink, and inside the booth’s are sparkly red and silver–reminiscent of the 1950’s. They serve a pretty good burger and steak fries, and home-made shakes. The kids love this place. The children’s meals are served in paper pink Cadillac cars. What could be better???
The very cute young waitress, wearing a bright pink dress and white apron, approached our table and began chatting with us. She brought back our drinks and then asked where the kids were from, nodding her head towards my daughter and youngest son. It took me a half second to realize what she meant–my first answer was Detroit?? because, duh–I sometimes forget they aren’t really “from me..” I answered from Sierra Leone–Africa.
She said that she had been a foster child and was also adopted. She gave a big smile and walked back to look for our food. My youngest son, age 11 (he will be 12 in August) looked up and asked how she knew they were adopted. My daughter and I nearly fell on the floor laughing. Because, really. Two really white parents and giant 18-year-old autistic brother and then them.
When she came back to the table I told her, with a smile, that my son wondered how she knew they were adopted. She looked at him, and said that as an adopted child, you develop a sense as you get older and can just tell when another person is also adopted. And that being adopted is really cool, because you know you are really loved and that you are special.
She brought our food to our table and I asked her how old she was when she was adopted. She said she was put in foster care at age 5 and adopted at 12. I explained that we had to wait for six long years to bring the kids home, and they were 7 and 14 when we got them–and that they had been here almost five years now.
She was super nice and friendly and cute as a bug. I just wanted to squeeze her and bring her home with us. But I have a feeling her family would miss her.
She is a foster care success story.
I want to thank her for sharing her story and for telling my son that he was special. The family that raised her–the people who impacted her–BRAVO for doing such a great job. She seems to be a great girl.
I hope someday my own children can pay it forward in the same way.
You just never know who you’re going to meet.
The universe works that way. No chance meetings.
So keep yourself open to them.
Peace people. I hope you enjoy meeting me.