My teenage son Karl became withdrawn after his father died. As a single parent, I tried to do my best to talk to him. But the more I tried, the more he pulled away. When his report card arrived during his junior year, it said that he had been absent 95 times from classes and had six falling grades for the year. At this rate he would never graduate. I sent him to the school adviser, and I even begged him. Nothing worked.

One night I felt so powerless that I got down on my knees and begged for help. “Please God, I can’t do any thing more for my son. I’m at the end of my rope. I’m giving the whole thing up to you.”

I was at work when I got a phone call. A man introduced himself as the headmaster. “I want to talk to you about Karl’s absences.” Before he could say another word, I cried and all my disappointment and sadness over Karl came pouring out into the ears of this stranger. “I love my son but I just don’t know what to do. I’ve tried everything to get Karl to go back to school and nothing has worked. It’s out of nay hands. ”For a moment there was silence on the other end of the line. The headmaster seriously said, “Thank you for your time”, and hung up.

Karl’s next report card showed a marked improvement in his grades. Finally, he even made the honor roll. In his fourth year, I attended a parent-teacher meeting with Karl. I noticed that his teachers were astonished at the way he had turned himself around. On our way home, he said, “Mum, remember that call from the headmaster last year?” I nodded. “That was me. I thought I’d play a joke but when I heard what you said, it really hit me how much I was hurting you. That's when I knew I had to make you proud.”

That morning, I dropped our eldest at kindergarten and returned home to let our two younger children play while I worked on my medical report. It was wonderful, but it hit me that my career in hospital wasn't making a difference in anyone's life. I needed something that would stretch my limits and push me to grow. My career enabled me to work from home. I could work from home, and become a foster (领养) mother, providing safety for a child who needed it desperately.

On Monday morning, I picked up the phone and dialed the number I had googled for the nearest Department of Children's Services. The man on the other end was receptive to my questions and explained the next step of training, involving eight weeks of classes designed to prepare and educate foster parents. We continued through all the classes, the home visits, background checks, and seemingly endless steps.

Five long months after we were approved, the phone rang. In the middle of the night, I woke my husband and rushed to East Tennessee Children's' Hospital. Our placement was waiting for us in the emergency room, sick and lack of nutrition. It didn't take long for us to realize the full depth of her suffering. Six months later, her half-brother came to us by our request. We now had five children under our care.

On August 12, 2016, our family of seven walked into a small courtroom. The children's lawyer and social worker were there. With just a few words, our adoption was finalized. These two amazing children weren't going home, because they were already home. We are their forever family, and they are our forever children. We may not be able to change the entire world, but we have changed the world entirely for our new children.

We thought we had it all---a beautiful house, three healthy children and one more on the way, two cars, a couple of four-wheelers for entertainment---and we loved it. Then, the market turned and my husband’s job at a construction company was gone. The company was closing down for good.

We both started looking for jobs right away, but there weren't any to be found. With each passing day we were getting increasingly worried and we continued to work together in order to pull our family through. The more we pulled together, the closer we got. I felt feelings of admiration for my husband that I hadn't felt in years.

That's why it was so hard for me to watch him blame himself for our present situation. I continually asked him to stop, but he seemed to want to punish himself for not having a job.

Finally, one afternoon I pulled him aside and said, “We have four healthy children. That's what's important. That makes you a rich man.”

“But what if we lose the house? They'll hate me-you'll hate me,” he replied.

I smiled at him and put my hands on both sides of his face to make him look me in the eye. “No matter where we live I will be happy--as long as I have you.” I smiled again. In all the struggling together I had found that deep love for him that I had on the day we said “I do”.

I could see his shoulders and neck relaxed. He held me close and we were able to talk and plan and dream together in a way that we hadn't for quite some time. It was a turning point for us as a couple and a family.

We are still struggling for our better life, but I consider us well-off because we have something that money can't buy and no one can take away from us.