I woke up this morning still reeling from the difficulty of last night. Sprout woke up as his usual, cheerful self – a testament to how much more resilient he is than I’ll ever be.
A few hours later I got a call from a number I didn’t recognize. Uncharacteristically, I answered it. It turned out to be a woman who I exchanged numbers with a couple months ago at a foster parent seminar. Out of the blue she got the urge to follow-up and give me a call. Can you believe her timing? We sat and talked like old friends; she told me stories about the many children who have been through her home and I told her about the heartbreak in mine. She commiserated, reassured, and gave me perspective I was lacking. And thanks to her following a whim, I found myself back on my feet again. Everyday miracles…they happen, well, every day.