The manner of giving shows the character of the giver.
~Johann Kaspar Lavater

It was a beautiful Sunday morning in 1998, and it was a special day at my house. My two teenaged kids were going to treat Dad to breakfast for Father’s Day.

Then the phone rang. Once again my family was asked to sacrifice their day and put their plans on hold while Dad, the detective, responded to the needs of another.

I was advised that there was a fifteen-year-old female rape victim at the hospital in a nearby city. I assured my family that I would be home quickly and that this should not take too long. My wife and teenaged daughter just gave me the “Yeah, right” smile that I had seen so many times before and sent me on my way.

Once at the hospital, I met with the staff and another officer who was present. When I began to interview the victim, I found that she was developmentally delayed and slow mentally. After about an hour with the victim, I finally began to gain her trust and learn what took place on the previous night. While I was explaining to the victim’s guardian, her aunt, what I knew thus far, we were interrupted by the nurse. She explained that, although the victim had told all of us that this was her first sexual encounter, a routine test indicated she was five to seven weeks pregnant. Wow, I thought, another can of worms just opened. I might as well kiss this Father’s Day goodbye.

After a couple more hours with the victim and no good description of any suspect or explanation as to who got her pregnant, I finally went home late that afternoon.

Over the next several weeks, I worked leads on the rape, trying to develop a suspect. None surfaced. During one of my calls to the victim, her guardian told me that the victim was not mentally and physically able to care for herself, let alone any new baby. Then she dropped the hammer on me. The aunt bluntly asked, “Would you like to adopt the baby once it is born?”

The guardian kept telling me that she felt as if I were meant to adopt the baby. She told me to think about it and to tell her later.

My wife and I had two children already, both of whom were in the middle to late teens, and for the past several years, I had been pestering her for another baby. The answer was always the same. It was not that she did not want another baby; it was just that we were approaching forty and were just getting comfortable in our lives. The kids were now old enough to help themselves, and we had time for ourselves. Any time I broached the subject, I got the same answer. “If you find someone who will give you one, then you can have it.” She knew people did not just give babies away like puppies, so she had nothing to worry about.

I went home that night and again began to talk about how I would really like to have another baby, and again I got her same answer back. “Find someone to give you one, and you can have it.”

Then, pow! I hit her with it! “Done deal,” I said. I then told her of the situation and the availability of the child. She was stunned.

Over the next several days, we analyzed our lives, and she pretty much convinced me that we should not take on any more responsibilities than we already had. Besides, we did not know anything about adoption, the health of the still-unborn baby, and a variety of other things. Besides, we wanted what would be best for the child. We had some married friends who could not have children, so we introduced them to the birth mom and her guardian.

Months passed, and I thought everything was settled. Then three weeks before the baby was to be born, I heard it was a girl. I had always wanted a girl. I was sad I missed this chance.

One afternoon, I got another call from the aunt, who was very distraught. After several months of the birth mother making arrangements with the other couple, they backed out of the plan. Now the baby would be given up to the county when born. Auntie pleaded again, “Please, will you take the baby?” She then went on, “Although the plans were made with the other family, me and my niece always wanted your family to take the child. Somehow it feels like you are supposed to raise her.” She pleaded with me to please reconsider.

Well, it was not me she needed to convince. When I heard this and realized that I now had the chance not only for a baby, but a baby girl to boot, I flew out of the office with a plan.

I called my wife and told her we were going to dinner at our favorite romantic restaurant. That evening, I told her of the latest phone conversation with the aunt. She interrupted me as she smiled and said, “For the past few months, I’ve prayed about this. Although I felt like it was God’s will that we adopt this child, I wanted proof, so I asked that if it was his plan, then to reassure me by making it amazingly easy and with no worries or hurdles to jump.”

I sat stunned, loving her more than ever.

“Call the aunt and birth mother. Tell them we would be more than happy to adopt the baby.”

With shaking hands, I made the call. Three weeks later, we awoke at 3:00 AM to a phone call saying we were having a baby!

Being in the room during the birth, at the request of the birth mother, was incredible and something that we had never discussed or expected. We all spent the night with the newest addition to our family, and as I walked out the doors of the hospital the next day with that little warm bundle in my arms, I felt ten feet tall!

Later that night, as my wife and I lay in bed staring at our little angel, she said, “You, of all people in this world, should never be able to doubt that there is a God and that he truly gives us the desires of our hearts.”

She kissed our daughter, then me. “This belated Father’s Day present was worth the wait.”

~Clifton Bush