They launched at me, almost knocking me off the chair.
“I love you,” Hannah signed. “Thank you for learning our language.”
“Thank you for taking us in,” Diana jumped in. “For not saying we were too much.”
I pulled back and wiped my face.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t leave you.”
“I found you in a stroller on a cold sidewalk,” I signed. “I promised myself I wouldn’t leave you. I meant it. Deaf, hearing, rich, broke—I’m your mom.”
They both cried harder.
We spent that night at the table, going through emails, writing questions, texting a lawyer a friend recommended.
Maybe I could finally quit the brutal early shift.
We talked about saving. College. Giving some back to their school’s deaf program. Maybe fixing up the house. Maybe I could finally quit the brutal early shift.
Later, when everyone was asleep, I sat alone in the dark, looking at their old baby photos on my phone.
Two tiny girls, abandoned in the cold.
Those girls saved me right back.
Two strong teens, designing a better world for kids like them.
People sometimes tell me, “You saved them.”
They have no idea.
Those girls saved me right back.
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