You had always wanted children—that was your truth. You felt a natural pull toward motherhood, one only overshadowed by a deep fear of everything the biological process of “becoming a mother” entailed. Even so, you pushed yourself not to let that fear dictate your future.

You considered yourself a woman who always tried to make the best out of every situation, focused on the greater good and on contributing something meaningful to society. That conviction, along with the disappointment of having met men who simply didn’t measure up, led you firmly toward adoption.

Your parents opposed it from the very beginning. With an outdated mindset, they firmly believed children had to share your blood to truly be considered “family.” But your decision was already made, and you had no intention of turning back. After exhausting months of paperwork, socio-economic evaluations, and enduring skeptical looks when you declared you wanted to become a single mother, you finally got in contact with an adoption agency in Nashville.

When you arrived, the social worker began by showing you the profiles of the available babies. Many carried tragic stories from the moment they were born, like most of the children there. However, even though you had always imagined adopting a baby, seeing the number of older children still waiting for a chance made something shift inside you. You decided you wanted to be a home for someone who had been waiting far too long.

A week later, you returned, making it clear that you wanted to meet the children who had been there the longest. That was when you saw them: a group of boys and girls playing soccer loudly in the central yard. You watched the game for a moment when suddenly, one of the kids missed a pass and sent the ball flying—straight toward you.

With a gentle reflex, you stopped the ball and crouched down to pick it up. It was in that moment that the group noticed you for the first time. You greeted them carefully, mindful not to disrupt the natural flow of the moment, and stepped closer. Holding the ball, you walked toward the center of the game—and there, among all of them, one girl stood out unmistakably: golden curls and striking blue eyes.