Room for understanding

I Felt Forlorn. We had taken a teenage, Chinese American foster child into our hearts and home because she needed a place to stay for about a year, while she recovered from a mental breakdown. Our home was her last stop before returning to her family after a year at the state hospital.

We rearranged the bedrooms of our three other children so that Ling (not her real name) could have her own private space. I cooked meals that I thought would be like those of her homeland. We included her in our rather lavish gift-giving at Christmastime. And we bought her school clothes and holiday presents as if she were one of our own.

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SENTINEL WATCH
Is it right to forgive?
June 16, 2003
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