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stairs. The baby had then been taken to a hospital
and abandoned, where she lay critically ill for two
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weeks. She was not responding to treatment and the
doctors recognized that in her emotional state she
might never recover. Finally Ellen said, "Betty, our
last hope is you. We know we're asking a lot, but
could you please take her back for a while, at least
until she gets better?"
I felt faint, and my breath came in gasps.
"Can I call you right back?" I asked. Then I hung
up the phone. It was seven-thirty, and Joe had
already gone to work. I ran to the stairs and
screamed for the kids. I told them I had wonderful
news, but then I couldn't get it out. My throat
tightened, the words would not pass through my
lips. The children followed me to the phone and
listened as I called Joe and tried to tell him what
had happened. He said he'd be home right away.
His voice was calmer than mine and that comforted
me. I was starting to feel revived a little, and I
realized that I hadn't given Ellen an answer in my
excitement I had practically hung up on her. I re-
dialed her number, then I became panicky that I.
had misunderstood her. What if everything had
been a mistake? She answered, and I asked her to
repeat everything again, which she did, adding that
she was flying to the city where the baby had been
abandoned. I told her that I would go with her, but
she said it wouldn't be appropriate to wait here.
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But she had told me where the baby was, and right
after she hung up I dialed the travel agency and
made plans to be on the same flight with her. I
called her back and said I was going with her.
Reluctantly, she said that she would meet me at the
airport. Another case worker would meet us in the
other city, bringing the baby with him. The flight
was too long, and as soon we were let off the plane
I ran into the terminal and began searching through
crowds for my baby.
Knowing the case worker was a man, I
looked for a single male with a child. I couldn't find
them, and I began feeling frantic. I knew exactly
what the baby looked like; why couldn't I find her?
Then to one side I spotted them, but the baby in his
arms didn't resemble the image in my memories at
all. Still, I knew it was her. "That's my baby!" I
heard myself screaming as I ran to them and
snatched her out of his arms.
The baby was bald except for tufts of hair
here and there. Her eyes were swollen, and one
eyebrow was cut and bruised. She recognized me
immediately and clutched me tightly, with both her
arms and little legs wrapped tightly around me.
"What have they done? What have they done?" I
cried. The case worker was surprised at this
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strange, crying woman who had pulled the baby
from his arms. Ellen came up behind me and
explained to him that it was all right, that I was the
baby's mother.
Joe and all six children met us at the airport
on our return. Their eyes lit up in excitement and
filled with tears when they saw the little bundle in
my arms. The baby saw them and willingly went to
each of them as they reached to hold her. But she
stayed with each only briefly, needing to return to
me between hugs. She clung to me like her life
depended on my existence.
For the next few months she wouldn't let me
leave her sight. We became aware of the harm that
had been done to her fragile emotions. She
wouldn't speak to anybody, she refused to walk,
and her face was expressionless. The only time she
made a sound was when I left her. Then she cried
until I returned. Finally, I wrapped her in a dish
towel and tied her to my body so I could get some
work done around the house. She and I spent a few
months tied together like this. I put her crib next to
my bed and retired early each night, because she
refused to go to sleep without me next to her. At
first her crib was right next to my bed, and I put my
hand through the bars and held her hand until she
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fell asleep. As the months went by, I moved her
crib a little farther away each night until she was
eventually able to sleep on the other side of the
room.
Joe and I had hired an attorney to begin
immediate adoption proceedings. We had also
taken her to a hospital for an examination to
document the abuse she had experienced. We found
that besides the obvious cuts and bruises, she had
suffered a fractured arm, dehydration,
malnourishment, and had sores on her scalp where
dumps of her hair had been torn out Her mental
condition could only be guessed at, but her
desperate clinging to me and refusal of others
showed deep distrust The doctor saw that her health
depended on the continuous, stable family life she
received with us.
The court reviewed the matter and
considered all the evidence. The decision was soon
in coming: she was ours. Joe wanted to change her
name, wanting to give her the most precious name
he knew, and even though I objected, the family
overruled me. They couldn't miss the similarities in
personality and the deep bonding that we had
established; she was legally renamed Betty Jean,
after me, her new mother.
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By the time little Betty was two and a half,
she had fully recovered both physically and
emotionally. She became once again the most
darling and playful child in the house, surprising us
constantly with her quick sense of humor. One
afternoon she ran over to Joe. As an impish smile
came to her face, she stood up on the toe of his
shoe, threw her other foot up behind her, and
balancing like a ballerina reached up to dig into the
pocket of his slacks. A chill ran through me as
memories flooded back. Little Betty laughed, and I
heard the voice of a little girl years before, a little
girl who had kept us company in a hospital room
when heaven and earth seemed one. Then I saw and
understood more. A vision of a young woman came
back to me, a memory of a beautiful and energetic
spirit who had once been waiting to come to earth. I
remembered her as the young spirit with whom I
shared a bond in a previous time, the one in the
spirit world whose loveliness and energy captivated
me. I wanted to cry as everything about this
precious angel came together. I had been allowed to
see her as a child in the spirit. Now I knew why I
had been shown her as an adult spirit ready to come
to earth. I knew also that while she could not be
born to me because of my hysterectomy, she had
found another way to become a part of my life. And
now I knew why I had been compelled to take her
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as a baby. We were closest of friends forever,
eternities of experiences behind us, and eternities
ahead.
My family has grown since these
experiences, and most of them have left home.
They have begun their own families and embarked
on their own paths of progression. Joe and I still try
to help them through painful moments, but we
know that we can never live their lives for them
and would not want to. We understand that they are
heavenly beings like ourselves, here for an earthly
experience. We can't swallow up their sorrow, and
we can't plan their joy. All we can do is be family.
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