A Room for Hanna

Like a grunion hunter waiting for the tides to recede, I anticipated the moment when I would commence the foster-care process. I meditated on this notion and in January, as the full moon transitioned out of its cycle-- I oriented myself to the beginning of the beginning.

I learned that I would have to have a room for Hanna, a room all her own.

I searched neighborhoods and online ads for the increase in square footage that would allow my dreams to take shape.

On an educator's salary, my options were limited; but I found a suitable place-- near a good school, and it didn't break the bank. In March, I packed my life into boxes and left my solitude behind.

Inside my newly rented four walls, a fresh coat of paint enhances the room where beautiful Hanna will sleep. On the pink iron bed, shaped with curves and hearts, I place Oliver, a bear that my grandmother passed on to me before she died. This bear had been my grandmother's companion since she was three years old, and my confidant since I was seven days old; he is an excellent guardian and secret keeper. 

Oliver will be patient with Hanna, and will protect her from imaginary monsters while she is sleeping, as will I.

She will be safe here in her new home, in the room all her own, just as safe as she is in my heart.