“Wow, sir, this shirt is really nice! I ain’t never had new clothes like this. I love it! Thank you, sir… and you too, ma’am. Y’all real kind!
“Sir, I wanna be… your son too! My legs don’t work, and the other kids always messin’ with me. Please… take me with you! I promise I’ll be really obedient. I’ll work really hard to repay you!”
As he spoke, Tyrell Gooding tried to get down from his wheelchair to kneel in front of us.
My wife Cecily rushed to stop him, her face full of sympathy.
“As long as you like it. But… are there really kids bullying you here? The director seems like a good person. How could something like that happen?”
Our son’s eyes were red with pity as he looked up at me.
“Dad, can’t we bring him home? I want a little brother to play with!”
Their voices brought me back to my senses.
I had been… reborn!
I was back—to the day we were about to adopt Tyrell!
In our past life, he always played the poor, pitiful boy whenever we visited for charity work. With his disabled legs and sad face, he always made sure to be the first to greet us.
Trying to set a good example for our son—and because my wife and I were soft-hearted—we eventually gave in and adopted Tyrell.