by Fran Mascioli

Created on: November 23, 2008   Last Updated: December 25, 2009

She parked her car in front of the white picket fence and stepped out with the fresh baked Pumpkin Bread in hand. She gazed at the winding walkway that was lined with winter pansies.  The path looked exactly the same as it did all those years ago as she walked it for the first time.  The house looked just as it did that day, except now it had a fresh coat of paint and new window boxes.  The window shutters had been brown then. They were now black.  One tear fell as she recalled the fear she felt.  She reached down to touch the petals of the flowers. She struggled to overcome the memories of her life prior to this path.  She had been so terrified that the young couple would not want her.   

She'd first walked this path as an innocent little girl, afraid to hope. But, it had not been a disaster. Instead, it turned out to be pure joy. She was a part of this family, and this house was her home. She loved the Coleman's more than she knew it was possible to love. As she approached the top step, the door opened and the couple welcomed her with warm hugs.  Suddenly, she felt whole again.  The Coleman's had managed to help her achieve that feeling of belonging all those years ago.

It had been such a tremedous joy to be wanted. Mr. and Mrs. Coleman were the last foster parents Whitney had. They had legally adopted her the year after she moved to their home. They had been the kindest family she had ever known. They paid for Whitney's college expenses. The young redhead had not experienced love and acceptance before the couple took her in. They helped Whitney to have faith and courage. They allowed her the space and time to adjust, encouraged her to ask questions, and to just sit quietly when she felt the need for seclusion. They gave her the freedom to "come around" in her own time. They were strong, happy and content. They loved Whitney. Within a few weeks of arriving, she felt secure. Whitney had previously spent many holidays at group homes. The few years she'd spent with foster parents were loveless. She had been taken in for the money with three separate foster care families and was not shown any affection.

Spending Thanksgiving Dinner with the Coleman's was always so special. Quida Coleman's mother and two aunts had arrived the previous morning and were waiting for Whitney in the kitchen. They all were all so happy to see her again. They were preparing the traditional

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