Chosen Child
The call had come, the trip was made and into a small room they were led, And there they stood eyeing me, the little boy quite critical, I was not thrust upon them by nature or it’s chance,
They didn’t have to take me, they didn’t have to care, That’s what makes it special, that’s why even then I smiled, © Stacey Ann Pullen
And there I lay soaking wet and giggling in my little bassinet bed.
“Oh Mom,” he said, “Let’s take her home, we have to-She’s so pitiful!”
My childhood was not given to them as a result of their romance.
They didn’t have to love me, the choice was purely theirs.
I was not just adopted, I was a chosen child.