A happy ending for Little Biker Boy

Little Biker Boy was seven years old when he moved into the little trailer down the street. For two years, he and his little sister visited my house just about every single day, staying until dark. I suspected right away they were living in an abusive situation, but I could do little about it, except to give them a safe place to come to when they needed it. I talked to caseworkers at Child Protective Services, but it seemed there was little they could do either. A smart blog reader suggested that I teach Biker Boy my phone number, and I did.

Three years ago, Biker Boy’s family was evicted from the trailer. His mother moved several times, first in with one boyfriend, then another. His sister and little brother disappeared: I was told they went off to live in another town with the sister’s father. Eventually, Little Biker Boy’s mother gave him up. Little Biker Boy moved to one foster home, then another.

During these years, Biker Boy would call me whenever he could. And I’d go pick up, wherever he was. We’d get a slice of pizza, or go for a walk outside somewhere, or go to the store to buy him whatever he needed. Once in foster care, he at least had a team of people working to help him. I had long talks with his newest caseworker and his therapist.

It was just about a year ago that a most wonderful thing happened. A young couple, looking to adopt a child, chose Little Biker Boy. He and I spent an afternoon looking at the photo album they’d put together, and he spent an evening playing board games with them, while his caseworker and therapist were present. Then, they began spending time together on a regular basis. Last spring, he moved in with them.

I couldn’t have picked a better situation for Little Biker Boy. His adoptive mother is a warm, genuine person with lots of energy. His adoptive father is an outdoorsy guy who happily takes Biker Boy fishing and camping. They live in a small town on the edge of a lake, about 40 minutes from my house. His adoptive father grew up in the town, so everyone knows the family and can keep an eye out for Biker Boy. In fact, his parents live next door, eager to be grandparents.

I have been so excited about this situation working out that I’ve been holding my breath, impatient for the adoption to go through. I was afraid to even write about my visits to Little Biker Boy on the blog, scared that I might jinx something. (The foster agency had rules about how his adoptive mother couldn’t put photos of him on facebook so I did think maybe I shouldn’t post anything on the internet either, even if it’s anonymous.)

But finally, it happened. The adoption is official. Little Biker Boy has a family now, who love him and treat him well. It’s appropriate, I think, that this all happened late in November because I am very, very thankful.