I was adopted from Colombia. The parents I live with today knew they wanted a little girl, and they also wanted to better someone’s life, so they decided to adopt. One day, they got a phone call about a baby girl in Colombia who had just been born and needed a family. Soon, they were on a plane to Bogota.Hmm, I'm not sure I would have been as understanding if I were in her shoes. . . . To see what happened next, and why the essay is entitled, "It's a Small World," go read the whole thing!
I have lived a completely normal childhood knowing that the people I call Mom and Dad are my “real parents” because I love them and they love me. I never met my birth parents and really didn’t know anything about them until one afternoon when I casually asked my mom if I had any biological siblings that I could contact one day. She gave me a worried look, and then said that she had planned to wait until I was 18 to give me the information, but she thought I was old enough.
My mother explained that I had two biological brothers living in the area and then took out some Christmas cards and letters that one had sent me years ago. The letters contained pictures of my oldest brother when he was four and I couldn’t believe how much of myself I saw in him. My mom told me that she had waited to tell me because she didn’t want me to be confused, but as time passed it got harder since she didn’t want me to think that she was trying to keep a secret. I had to be understanding. My parents never want anything but the best for me - I might have done the same thing.
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