***** 112:

Tracy stood in the doorway to Chris and Steven's room. There was a night light, a little car nightlight that illuminated the little boy face near it. A set of bunk beds had been set up, clothes bought, toys and school supplies. Tracy was slightly appalled at the lack of these items the boys brought with them. But they had been in foster care for a month, and their own possessions had never been brought.

She'd had no chance tonight to talk to Chris, the oldest, about his experiences, but she was convinced that she needed to. Foster care was traumatic, and she had no idea what theirs had been like, how much different it had been from their home, or from Bianca's care, if there had been any.

Kelly had hit it off with Danny right away and had managed to sleep with him in his room that night, with the promise that they could set up identical bunk beds for the two four-year-olds in Danny's room tomorrow. Replacement brothers... she thought, and one conveniently named after the one who was currently missing.

Tears gathered as she stared at the new little fair heads. Chris, at six, was a miniature Austin. His fair hair fell over high cheekbones, light blue eyes, and full lips. Steven's five-year-old face was a little more angular, a little less soft. His hair was the same fair color, his skin that flawless pale smooth...

Tracy knelt beside the lower bunk and stared into the sleeping face. So trusting, so vulnerable. Memories assailed her. First night in Grandma Nelson's house, her brother's both crying for her. Grandma had never let her share a room with them, so she'd had to sneak in and comfort them, especially Ty when he'd cried himself to sleep, scared of the dark, scared of his mother, her boyfriends, scared of everything.

Security. These boys needed a momma home with them. They needed to take long walks every day, play with little cars and watch Transformers. They needed to say prayers, have a normal bath time, and bedtime stories. Six kids... she thought frantically... six needy kids. Kids who had all lost someone they loved recently....Could she be the momma they all needed?

She stroked the fair little cheek, and Steven opened his eyes. He was startled at first, but Tracy put a finger to his lips.

"Hi." She whispered.

"Hi." He answered solemnly.

"It's okay. I just wanted to say good night again."

"Am I in trouble?"

Tracy's indrawn breath was audible. "Oh, no, honey, never in trouble. I'm just so glad you're here is all."

"Nana wasn't glad we were there. She wanted us to leave." He was referring to the former foster mother. Tracy had heard all about how Nana didn't want them.

"I am so glad you're here now, Steven. I told your daddy just yesterday how excited I was to have you come and stay with me."

"Are you my daddy's friend?"

"Yes."

"His girlfriend?"

"No, just his good friend."

"Does he have a girlfriend?"

"Yes, her name is Lisa and they'll be coming to see you after school tomorrow."

"I don't want to go to school."

"Why not?" Tracy knew the answer though. It was hard going to a new place and learning new names and making new friends.

"I just don't want to go, is all."

"What if I go with you?"

"And sit with me?"

"Yeah."

"And stay with me all the time?"

"However long till you tell me to go home."

"Then I guess I can go."

Tracy encircled him with gentle arms, holding him close to her breast and stroking his hair. Steven's arms came up and encircled her as well. She rocked him tenderly and kept rocking him, her eyes filled with tears of concern and tears of memories and tears of love. How can I feel so much compassion? I wasn't raised with this kind of love and compassion. Where does it come from?

And the answer came. It came from the source of all love and compassion. The Savior of the world, as Richard had said, the Lord Jesus Christ. He made it all possible.

More tears came, healing tears, and Tracy felt the little body next to her relax back into sleep, and she sat on the floor and rocked him a little longer.

*****