Last week was not a good week for me. It did not compare to the tragedy reported on TV and in newspapers about an infant girl left on a doorstep in Northeast Washington in freezing temperatures whose short life was over even before it started. The reports varied on the infant’s age, some saying newborn, others saying a week, and a few saying a month old.
It takes a lot to make me cry. And this was the straw that broke the infamous camel’s back. My family life was always a challenge, and there were and are still times when I feel I wasn’t wanted. Yet, I can’t say they ever abandoned me or tried to give me away.
Maybe the mother thought someone would open the door quickly and find the child. If so, she thought wrong. Maybe someone else interfered and hoped to find a better home. It strikes me as odd that the baby was left at someone’s home instead of a hospital or police station. This may be one time we can’t walk in someone else’s shoes.
My heart aches for the panic felt by the man who found her and whose father tried to revive her. They are still heroes in my book for trying.
The only comfort I take from this is that the child is with God. May He bless her and keep her in His loving embrace.
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