The baby was born into a wealthy family, but he did not meet their expectations.
 

Their baby boy was born with irreversible birth defects. It was going to be a long haul for him, and his parents did not feel up to the challenge. 
 

The newborn baby was placed in an institution where he was named, nourished, and raised without the benefits of a loving family.

But the doctors and staff were capable and caring. The little boy grew to be a good man.

Jerry lived life in a wheelchair, and his speech was slurred. His brain was sharp, and his heart was full and open. He made friends with a kind older gentleman who asked him about his background and his family. 

The young man told him his history. He had been told who his parents were, yet he had no relationship with them. 

"Would you like to have a relationship with your parents?" His friend asked.

"Yes, certainly I would." He spoke slowly. "But I don’t see how it’s possible." 

He explained that it was made very clear at birth, and throughout his life, that his parents chose to be estranged from him. They had never gone back to see the baby they gave away.

"May I contact your parents?" The old man asked.

"You can try. I have their names. I’m quite certain nothing will come of it." Jerry replied.

The first call the man made was to the family's home. He talked to the mother, and she explained that it was a difficult decision, but it was the right one. They had no regrets about giving up their child. There were their other children to consider.

She said "Everything works out for the best."

At the end of the call, but the old man convinced her to let him talk to her husband, Jerry's father.

After many conversations and pleading, the father finally relented with one condition. They would meet Jerry, but he could not come alone. 

The two friends went together to the house of Jerry's parents. It was a breezy spring day and Jerry wheeled himself up the walk to the front door, with his friend by his side.

The door opened, and the father gave a stiff, nervous greeting.

The four of them sat together in the living room. It was awkward and tense.

Jerry spoke first. His words came haltingly, his tone balanced and kind.

"I   know    I’m    not    perfect.       I    recently    realized    you    are    not    perfect    either.       If    you    will    forgive    my    imperfections,       I    will    forgive    yours."

The mother was the first to get up and walk toward her son and give him a long-awaited hug. The father did the same, clumsily but sincerely.

At this point, the older man excused himself and left his friend to make up for lost time with his family.

Shared by Susan Diamond