Nicholas is eight today.
That means it has been about seven years since I got an email from our social worker with this picture of the toddler who would later become our son.
From the day we met him, in the Playplace of a McDonald’s, he has always had a personality that is larger than life and a genuine happiness in his spirit that just cannot be broken, no matter what circumstances come his way. (Though he has been through some tougher stuff than any child of eight should have to bear.)
He loves airplanes, and LEGOs, and golf, and he has an innate musical ability we’re only just starting to truly understand. Schoolwork is hard, but people are easy– he loves them all, no matter who they are or where they come from. He forgives easily and fast. His eyes sparkle in a way that draw you in and make you love him. He is clumsy and loud and awkward and he repeats himself twenty times when he is excited. He is a magnet for dirt and joy, in equal measures.
He is Nicholas.
And he is ours.
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