When my sister died unexpectedly, her seven-year-old daughter was left with nowhere to go. My heart broke seeing her confusion, so I asked my husband if we could take her in. He hesitated, afraid we weren’t ready for such responsibility. His hesitation hurt, and I felt torn between my marriage and my niece. In the end, she entered foster care, and guilt lingered in my heart.
Years passed, each one reminding me of her. I often wondered if she was happy or loved. Fourteen years later, she stood at our door—grown, kind, and forgiving. She had found a loving family and peace within herself. Her grace taught me that forgiveness heals what regret cannot. Love, somehow, found its way back.
