I knew I was adopted as a child. They never told me about it. Their story about how they found me through foster care when I was only a few months old was never clear.
I didn’t try too hard because I had a good home life. However, there were nights when I couldn’t sleep and thought about where I came from. Who left me? Who found me?
Then, a few weeks before I turned 18, my mom gave me an old newspaper article and told me to read it.
“Officer Saves Baby from Runaway House” was the story.
She told me that the man in the picture found me. A white police officer named Michael Rayburn was called to a rough part of town to check out an empty house.
He went in thinking there would be renters or drugs. He found me on the floor, wrapped in a dirty towel and not making much noise.
He wouldn’t let me go from the hospital until they agreed to take care of me, my mom said. He held me for more than an hour. She told me that he kept in touch with her for months after that to make sure I was okay.
He wanted to meet me now, after all these years.
The man in the picture looked tired and had a big face. He was holding something very small. I had no idea how I felt.
Was I ready to meet the man who saved my life?
When the meeting day came, I was a nervous wreck. Michael had asked me to meet him at a small café downtown, so my mom drove me there. She offered to go in with me, but I chose to go by myself. I had to take care of this part by myself.
I saw him right away when I walked in. He was sitting in a booth in the back and had his hands on a coffee cup. His hair was graying at the temples, making him look older than in the picture, but his eyes were the same: kind, but heavy with something I couldn’t put my finger on.
As I walked up to the table, my voice was shaking as I said, “Hi.”
He got up quickly and almost knocked his coffee over. “You must be…wow.” “You’ve changed so much.” He cleared his throat and his voice broke. “My name is Michael.” “It’s great to finally meet you.”
As soon as we sat down, neither of us knew what to say. I finally broke the silence. You found me, so thank you. For keeping me safe.
His eyes were shining as he shook his head. “I didn’t do anything unique.” I did what I had to do. But you…you’ve become such a wonderful person. “Your parents have done a great job with you.”
We talked for a long time. He told me about that night. He said he was called to the empty house and heard a weak cry. He followed it to a back room. He talked about how he picked me up and how I stopped crying as soon as he did.
His voice was soft as he said, “It was like you knew you were safe.” “I had to hold you back.” “Not until I was sure everything would be okay with you.”
He asked me about my life. I told him how much I loved art, how I wanted to be a teacher, and how close I was to my folks. I could tell he was paying attention because he smiled and nodded, but I wasn’t sure what it meant.
As the talk came to an end, I finally asked the question that had been on my mind for a long time. “Do you know who left me there?” Did they ever find my real parents?”
Michael paused, and a cloud formed over his face. He slowly said, “I don’t know much.” “The crime was never solved.” I have to tell you something, though.
My heart beat faster. “What is it?”
He took a big breath in. “The night I found you…” It wasn’t my job to be on that call. I wasn’t working. I felt like I should go, though. It’s always made me wonder if it was fate.
I made a face. “What do you mean?”
He looked at his hands. “My wife and I lost our baby a few weeks before I found you.” She didn’t live. I was… somewhere dark. I was in the worst mood when I got the call about the empty house. I believe… It makes me feel like I can still do good things, that’s why I went.
My eyes were filled with tears. I said in a whisper, “I’m so sorry.”
He turned his head away. “Don’t be.” It saved me too to find you. “You gave me hope when I thought I had none left.”
We were quiet for a moment as the weight of what he said hit us. He then took a small, worn-out envelope out of his pocket.
He gave it to me and said, “I’ve have this with me for years.” “I believed you might want it.”
When I opened the package, I found a small bracelet inside. It was made of very small beads, the kind you’d use to dress a baby.
He said, “This was on your wrist when I found you.” “I saved it because I thought it might help you at some point.”
My mind was going fast as I held the bracelet in my hand. It was the first time I could really connect with my past.
After a few weeks, I chose to look into it. With Michael’s help, I found the address of the empty house where he had found me. It was still there, but it looked even worse than the pictures he had given me.
My heart was beating fast as I stood outside. Even though I didn’t know what I was looking for, I had to see it for myself.
Something stuck out of the ground near the back door as I walked around the property. I got on my knees and brushed off the dirt, which showed me a small metal box. It made my hands shake as I opened it.
There was a folded piece of paper and a blurred picture inside. The picture showed a young woman holding a baby, which was me. It said “I’m sorry” on the back in shaky handwriting. “I love you.”
The note was a letter from my real mother. She said she had no idea how to care for a baby because she was scared and young. She knew someone would find me when she left me in the house. She stayed close and watched until she saw Michael take me out.
“I would have given you a chance,” she wrote. “I couldn’t give you that chance.”
Holding the letter close to my chest, tears were running down my face. I felt like I had a link to the woman who had given birth to me for the first time.
I never found my birth mother. After that, the trail got cold. I did find something else, though—peace. Coming to know Michael and the truth about my past helped me see that love, not abandonment, changed my life.
Michael changed my life and became like a second father to me. He showed me that there is hope even in the worst times.
I learned that life is full of links you wouldn’t expect when Michael lost someone close to him and the letter was found. The people who save us need to be saved sometimes too. There are times when the answers we need are closer than we think.
One thing I’ve learned is that our past doesn’t make us who we are now. What counts is what we do in the moment.
Don’t give up if you’re looking for answers. There’s more to your story.
Please tell other people about this story if it touched you. Today, you never know who might need to hear it.
