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I was on a rough flight when a little boy, teary-eyed and alone, climbed into my lap without a word. No one came for him—not during the flight or after we landed.
His name was Finn. He thought his parents were nearby, but hours passed with no sign of them. I stayed with him, feeling a strong, unexpected connection.
Eventually, his mom showed up crying. A man joined her, confused—they hadn’t realized he was missing. It didn’t sit right.
I called child services. Days later, I asked to foster him.
A week later, Finn arrived at my door with a small bag and hopeful eyes. He stayed with me for six months—until his parents were ready.
Letting go was hard. But for a little while, we were exactly what each other needed.
