Dear precious one, I'm writing this letter to tell you I am so very sorry.
I looked at your picture and saw your beautiful face.
I read your brief bio, and also read between the lines.
I saw the sadness in your eyes.
Your face haunts me.
Your story breaks my heart into a million pieces.
I want you to know that even though we couldn't come for you,
I know your name. I whisper it in the night and ask the Lord to watch over you.
I know the day you were found wandering in the marketplace, and that the police came and took you to the welfare institute.
I know you were old enough to know that you were abandoned by the very ones you loved the most.
I know you talked a little about your family to your caregivers, and you cried yourself to sleep for many nights.
I know the day that was assigned as your birthday.
I know your medical needs.
I know that you needed surgery you never received, and now many are afraid to adopt you because of that need.
I know you've watched other boys and girls meet their new families.
I know that each birthday brings you a little closer to losing all hope. The clock continues to move steadily toward your 14th birthday.
I also know you favorite food and your favorite color.
I know you help the smaller kids and comfort the ones who are hurting.
I know you help the nannies with chores, and do it cheerfully.
I know you love to sing and your favorite song tells how blessed is a child that has a mother's love.
I know you like handwriting, but struggle in math.
I know you've posed for several photographs through the years, and that with each one you hope and pray that a family will see the beautiful you on the inside and come to make your their child.
I know all these things and yet I could not bring you home.
Please forgive me for not being able to give you a family to call your own.