Because of Her Cancer, Nobody Wanted Her — I Adopted Her Anyway, and a Month Later, a Limo Came to My Door

“They were,” I said softly. “And they loved you more than anything.”

“Do you think they’re happy I found you?” she asked.

“I think they’re celebrating,” I replied.

With the inheritance, I could finally provide the care Lila needed: better doctors, more treatment options, and a bedroom painted lavender, just like she wanted. Though still fragile, hope blossomed. Her blood counts improved, energy returned slowly, and she started chasing butterflies in the garden, laughing louder than ever.

Doctors began using words I’d been too scared to hear: “Improvement,” “Response,” and “Remission window.”

One afternoon, while coloring on the porch, Lila said, “Maybe my first parents picked you for me.”

I smiled. “What makes you say that?”

“Because you showed up just when I needed you. They probably told God, ‘Give her to that lady. She looks lonely.’”

I laughed and hugged her tightly. “Then I owe them everything.”

By autumn, the doctors confirmed it — Lila was in remission. I cried so hard the nurse brought tissues, but Lila just patted my hand and said, “See? Told you we’d win.”

We moved into her parents’ house that winter. The first thing Lila did was plant tulips — pink and white — in the garden. “For both my moms,” she said.

Every night, we sit on the porch wrapped in blankets, gazing at the stars she loves. She leans on my shoulder and whispers, “Do you think they can see us?”

“I know they can,” I say. “And I think they’re proud.”Continue reading…