Phyllis dreaded Tommie’s 18th birthday. Adopted as a baby Tommie got all that Phyllis could give. She broke her heart for him as she did for all her kids. But come the 18th birthday and Tommie announced what he had promised himself for years: “Mam, I want to find my mother.”

It tore Phyllis apart. She knew what he might unearth and that she could lose him, but she also knew that he had to do this, for himself. So she quietly, caringly watched him. She watched as he phoned social workers; she listened as he accounted for himself; she saw again the records of birth and adoption and felt each stitch of love that she had woven into him over the years being tugged one by one.

Then, one morning Tommie woke his Mam. He had a letter and was ecstatic. His mother didn’t write much, no photo, no phone number… but she did write! Phyllis read it three, four, five times. Then she took Tommie’s hand and said: “Son, I’m proud of you. Now write back to her. Tell her about yourself. She’ll be proud too!” And Tommie thought he had just won the World Cup.

-- Anonymous, December 07, 2001