I’ve been reading through some papers I set aside. There are notes from children and youth and from social workers and from parents. Teenagers use superlative language in liberal amounts. We often hear their annoyances expressed in aggressive tones. But they are equally effusive about good things in their lives.

A couple of years ago this is what Kirsten wrote:

Hi! My name is Kirsten and I am on this Adoption Exchange! I am so happy with the outcome…I have found a family that I love…well, you guys found them. They are so good to me, and I feel so loved and cared for…

….Seriously, I am not too happy with a lot of things that come about the foster care system but I am glad I had high hopes and did not give up….I am so welcomed and loved here! ….

….I was in foster care five years….I have hurt a lot….and I strongly believe that foster are is o place for any kid to grow up in….I am so lucky and privileged to have a family! I honestly couldn’t ask for me! They are wonderful! You guys have found a wonderful family and I thank you so much! I am so happy here…happier than ever!

Today Alan told a group of us about his great grandson. This little one just entered the world, and his family members are brimming with joy.

Alan gets tears when he talks about it. Thinking about the “near miss” is what he finds remarkable.

“There was no adoption in our family…..until my grandson was adopted. This baby would not be in my life if it weren’t for adoption.”

Adoption changes everything.

They say it takes a village. And I think it has taken a entire population to raise me. Fortunately I’ve had some great coaches. I’m deeply grateful to each one of us.

Some of you know who you are because you had to grab me by the collar to get my attention. Others of you have taught me by the way you’ve lived your lives.

Bob has been one of my teachers. In the first decade of The Adoption Exchange, he made his legal services available pro bono. For anything we needed.

And then he volunteered his time to help raise money, plan events, and develop corporate policies and procedures.

Bob spent many, many hours, always smiling. He didn’t have an adoption history that I knew of. And he didn’t have self interests to protect. He just did it. So one day I naively asked him what motivated him.

“It’s the right thing to do,” he said.

It was a perfect wedding. Family and friends gathered to witness the marriage and offer their support. Many people commented on what a good couple they are. Lauren and Chris complement one another in beautiful ways.

Lauren’s adoptive family were justifiably happy and proud. They love their handsome new son-in-law, who simply couldn’t stop smiling.

The maid of honor was a young woman who shares the experiences of living in foster care as a teenager. The two girls met at an adoption networking party and became close friends. So there was talk about foster care and adoption at the reception.

Lauren talked about being an angry adolescent and a difficult teenager for her mom to deal with. She talked about how much she loves her mom, and she thanked her for being there for her any time of day or night.

The feelings poured out to them were pretty much what every young adult wants to feel – accepted (despite mood swings and foibles); appreciated for their sense of humor and embracing the ridiculous; and loved (no matter what).

The bride and groom’s first dance more or less expressed what their relationship is like. Chris is teaching Lauren patience. And she is teaching him to dance!

Be happy, Lauren and Chris. We are all rooting for you!

Sometimes people hesitate to adopt because they think they won’t be good enough.

The children have already been compromised by abuse and neglect. The child welfare, mental health, education and court systems have let them down. Won’t it take really incredible people to be their parents?

We are tempted to think the children deserve super-moms and super-dads, given the trauma they’ve survived. But if we wait for that, they won’t ever have stability and love.

Helen Costello says that happy endings only happen in fairy tales. Then she goes on to say that happiness in some stories come after trials and turbulence.

And she should know. Helen has been an adoption professional, teacher, psychotherapist, and child welfare worker for as long as I have worked in the field. She has been an enabling presence in the lives of hundreds of Montana families.

When one family called and asked her to come and get their adopted daughter, Helen didn’t panic. And she didn’t get angry. She just said, “I can’t. She is your daughter.” Then she made an offer to help them be the kind of parents their child needed. Helen had seen families in crisis. She didn’t rush out and remove the troubled teenager. But she did spend the next two years helping the family get back on track.

One of the chapters in her book, From the Heart, is titled “Parenting.” Helen begins the chapter with a sort of definition of good parenting: “We are here for you! We may stumble, but we will not let you down!”

Helen is a good therapist. The real life stories in her book remind us that it doesn’t take perfection. It takes commitment.

Costello, Helen. From the Heart, Great Falls, MT, 2010.

Though their behavior can be maddening, sometimes the wisdom of teenagers inspires. Here are some examples:

• “I think I need my mom more now as a teenager than I did when I was younger,” Shante, age 18.

• I didn’t want to wait ‘til I am 16 when my birth mother will get out of jail. I needed a family now,” Traci, age 14.

• “I wish I had a mom and dad that would tell me I can’t go out tonight – that we are going to stay home and have dinner together as a family.” Emily, age 17.

Danielle Bush was a 16 year old in foster care when she wrote these words and shared them with members of Congress:

Our Cry
(Foster children of Today’s World)

We are lost, surrounded on all sides by pure
darkness
We are alone, with no one to follow
We look up to the sky and we call on our creator
We ask him to guide us to safety
We hear no response so we continue to stand
there in the darkness
We put our hands together and close our eyes
We try to think but our minds show us nothing
but the darkness our eyes see
We hear a voice in the distance but we can’t
understand what it is saying
We try to follow the voice
One by one we are swallowed into the blackness
that surrounds us
The voice continues to speak from a distance
There are two children left, they are trying to
find the voice
They cry out for help but the response is still
unclear
They continue to walk until one of the two
children is swallowed
The last child screams into the blackness

Did you even try to find us or did you just think we
would find you? Do you not understand that as we
tried to find you the blackness has swallowed us up
one by one? Did your heart not tell you to come
farther to find us? Did you not know that we were
blind and could not survive alone? When we needed
you the most you let us down. Now we have been
swallowed by this blackness and it will be
harder to reach us!

I believe that our actions form our reply to Danielle. In dedicating our hearts to the mission and our skills to the work of giving every vulnerable child a safe and loving family, we tell Danielle, “We heard your cry. We are listening. And we won’t give up for you.”

What I’m about to say may sound too simple for some. But I get guidance from simple truths. And it seems to me that the world of adoption is all about one simple thing – love.

When I’ve remembered that, and when I’ve worked to achieve it, things have gone the way they’re supposed to.

Our work is to help people find ways to express their love, help them discover their capacities for loving, and create opportunities for them to experience being loved.

Of course there are complications, complex situations, and nuanced decisions to be made. So I’m not saying the work is easy. I’m just saying that it’s actually quite clear.

Last week I announced my upcoming retirement. And I’ve received wonderful, loving messages from many people. I am very grateful to you. And I can’t thank you enough for helping me focus on the simple, powerful truths that have been the foundation of our work together.

Donna recently told one of our staff members what it meant to her to adopt a medically fragile child. He was too ill to survive. But he needed a family. So Donna reached across state boundaries to give it to him. She waded through the bureaucracies of the ICPC (Interstate Compact on the Placement of Children) and multiple agencies to bring him home.

Donna gave that little boy safety. She saw to it that her son received the best possible medical care. She surrounded him with music and language and hope. “I gave him my name and I gave him my love,” she said.

It’s a simple…and profound…as that.