I remember when we got my sister. I say we “got” her because none of our family saw her on the day she was born. My parents adopted her a few days after her birthday in January 1965. They knew they would be adopting a girl, but didn’t know exactly when. My parents had gone through several interviews, an inspection of our house, and other background checking in preparation, and it was all done but the waiting when we got a phone call that a baby was waiting at the Family and Children’s Center in Mishawaka, Indiana. In those days (1965), it was unusual for families to know much about the biological parents of an adopted child, but we were aware that the mother was from the area.

My parents, and my brother and I went to the center and my parents were led into a room where my sister was in a crib. They were told that if they had any doubts about adopting after seeing the child, they could walk away and it would be ok. But my mother was in love immediately.

As we left the center with our new little sister, snow was starting to fall. I will never forget the look on my mother’s face as she walked to the car, beaming down at the face of her new little girl.

Happy Birthday, Jenne.