Sometimes it's different..

The worker was polite she was also a blatant racist.  Since WE were black, WE were shown the best of the black children, it was sad to me because most of them were older children and I found myself wishing I could take them all home but, none of them seemed right to me.

WE decided WE would come back in about a week, which would give them time to come by and snoop, and crawl up through all of our orifices..

As WE were leaving, WE stopped at the counter, I thought I heard a whisper behind me and I turned around to see a lump lying in a pile on a bed.  The room was dark but I could just make out shape. 

I don't know why, or what possessed me but I asked the woman, who was in that room?  She looked in the direction of my pointing finger and said "that's Isaiah, don't pay him anymind, he's different."  I furrowed my brow and asked her what she meant by different. 

She surprised me by telling us he was not the brightest child in the world, he didn't speak, not that he couldn't, he just didn't, she continued by saying she thought perhaps he had down syndrome and that, no one wanted him he would be here forever or maybe fostered out.

I was totally astonished, she spoke like he wasn't even a human being, she had no qualms being in ear shot either.. It pissed me off.. I told her WE wanted to see the child.  She stared at me for a moment, made a remark about him being caucasian and reached to shut the door.  I grabbed her hand and demanded that she allow US to see the child.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see WE were going to have a discussion when we got home, I didn't care, I walked into the room, the little body sat up.  I pulled a chair across from the bed and sat down, he slid the covers down and there he was.. so cherubic.. blond hair that hung down to his shoulders, piercing blue eyes, big, round like pools, clear pools and a little mouth with the pinkest lips.. how could she have said such things about him, he was beautiful and even better, he climbed up onto my lap and put his little arms around my neck. 

I cannot explain, I could not even explain it if it were to save my life, the feeling that over took me, I knew right there, this was the child for me.  I held him tight as tears rolled down my cheeks, I whispered to him, I told him, everything was going to be alright, no one would ever take him from me, ever...  He lay his head on my shoulder.. it felt right, it felt good, he was my child...

He was nothing like the child in our discussion but, I knew, he was my child, not the right color, not the right eye color, not the right sex.. he was PERFECT!

The End

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