In my family, I stuck out like a sore thumb. Mom, Dad and Sis were all dark haired. I, on the other hand, had freckles and flaming red hair. Back in 1960, people thought nothing about approaching young children and asking them questions. The question to me was always, “Where did you get that beautiful red hair?” My answer would be, “I don’t know, ’cause I’m adopted.” People were so surprised by this, they would respond by giving me money to put in my pocket.
When I was 12, my father came to my room one night. Maybe he sensed my preteen anxieties and fears. Whatever the reason, that night he sat beside me in bed and said: “You are special because you were chosen. I love you as if you were my own blood.”
Adopted children are truly special, and so are the people who open up their hearts and lives to adopt a child. Thanks to them, and a special thanks to my mom and dad.
Mary Jo Wheeler