migrant

The second part of a blog descibing how alien a new foster family in a new country can be and how that feeling can be overcome with love, teamwork and perseverence.

I’ve often thought that, for our foster son, coming to live with us must have been like being plucked from his bed and finding himself firmly ensconced on the moon. This is not because we are particularly strange per se but because of all the foreignness we came wrapped in.