When the call finally came, Carolyn nearly dropped the phone in her haste to answer it.
The meeting was set for the following afternoon.
Emma arrived at our house with Carolyn’s parents. She was a slender girl with Carolyn’s eyes and a serious expression that melted into curiosity as she saw Carolyn.
“Hello,” she said simply, her voice steady despite the enormity of the moment.
“Hello, Emma,” Carolyn replied, her voice trembling.
“I know who you are,” Emma said, looking directly at Carolyn. “Grandma and Grandpa have pictures of you all over the house.”
“They do?” Carolyn asked, surprised.
“You’re still their daughter,” Emma said matter-of-factly.
“Just like I’m still your daughter, even though you couldn’t keep me.”
The wisdom in her young voice brought fresh tears to Carolyn’s eyes.
She kneeled before Emma, careful not to crowd her.
“I don’t expect anything. I just want to know you, if you’ll let me,” Carolyn said.
Slowly, Emma smiled. “I’d like that.
And I already know Tim from school. He’s pretty cool, for a boy.”
Tim, who had been hovering uncertainly in the doorway, grinned at this backhanded compliment.
As I watched them — Carolyn, Emma, Tim, and the grandparents who had bridged an impossible gap — I saw a broken family begin to mend.
Tim gained a sister that day. Carolyn got a second chance at something she thought she had lost forever.
And I realized that families aren’t always what we expect them to be.
Sometimes they’re messy and complicated.
Sometimes they break apart and find their way back together in ways we never could have imagined.
But when they do, it’s something close to magic.
