Reflection

Through a multitude of homes and “mothers” I longed for one thing, a mother who looked like me.  I wanted to see her face and see myself and know that we belonged together.

One day I found her.

She did not have my deep black eyes.

She did not have my smooth brown skin.

She did not have my dark curly hair.

But she loved me like her own child.

I could see myself in her heart.

That is when I realized I had found the place where I belong, and I did not want her to let me go.