In those first few moments, I felt abandoned. My mother passed me into the arms of a person who I had never seen before in my short life.

“What time will you be back?” The question hung in the air like the smell of last night’s boiled cabbage.

“Six,” said my mother, as she rushed out of the house to avoid my wailing protest.

The room where I was traded off was hot and stuffy. A blanket was spread on the grubby, linoleum floor, and my chubby, two-year-old self was told to have a sleep.

“Sh, sh, go to sleep.”

The voice faded away as its owner retreated from the kitchen………

Though my father and mother foresake me…(Psalm 27:10)

This chapter is an introduction to the many times I felt abandoned as I was shuffled from one foster home to another.