A Blessing from Heaven… It was a gloomy morning: heavy clouds dragged low across the sky, faint thunder rumbled in the distance. A storm was approaching—the first of the spring. Winter had ended, yet spring was slow to claim its place; the air remained chilly, and gusty winds chased last year’s leaves in swirling clouds of dust. Fresh grass was only just daring to peek through the hard ground, the tree buds tight and secretive. Nature waited longingly for rain. The past winter had brought little snow, and the land, restless and thirsty, yearned for the coming storm to revive it with generous showers. Only then would true spring burst forth—lush and blooming, as radiant and tender as a woman in full bloom. Birds would fill the air with song, build their nests in blossoming gardens, and life would begin anew. “Sophie, breakfast is ready!” called Emma from the kitchen. “Your coffee is getting cold.” The aroma of coffee and eggs drifted in, but after the heavy conversation and Emma’s tears last night, the sleeplessness, and the painful deliberations, finding the strength to get up was difficult. Yet life goes on. Emma, too, looked spent; her eyes reddened, dark shadows beneath them. She offered Sophie her pale cheek for a kiss, smiling faintly. “Good morning, love. Looks like a storm’s coming. Oh, how I long for rain! When will real spring finally arrive? Listen, darling, these lines came to me this morning: I wait for spring, for deliverance From winter’s chill and homelessness. I wait for spring’s unfolding light To untangle all life’s uncertainty. I dream that when it comes at last, Everything will soon be clear. I know that only spring can make All honest, simple, safe, and sure. Where are you, spring? Come quickly! Sophie embraced her, pressing a kiss into Emma’s soft blond hair, which smelled faintly of wildflowers and open fields. Her heart ached with sorrow. My poor darling, my precious—why must we endure such trials? There had always been hope; it’s what got them through the years. But yesterday, the renowned doctor, the one they’d clung to as their last hope, closed the book on their dream. “I’m so sorry, but you cannot have children. Your time in Chernobyl, Sophie, left scars medicine cannot heal.” Emma, dabbing her eyes, said firmly, “Sophie, I’ve been thinking. We should adopt a child. There are so many children who need a home. We could take in a boy—raise him as our own. Would you agree? We’ve hoped so long for a son.” Tears streamed down her face, and Sophie held her close, unable to keep her own tears at bay. “Of course, darling! Don’t cry, please.” Just then, the thunder cracked deafeningly, shaking the house. The sky opened, and finally the rain poured down—God had heard their prayers at last. The precious spring rain, symbolic of life and renewal, washed away the gloom in their hearts. All they wished now was that it would last a little longer. A few days later, they stood in front of the orphanage doors, pulse quickening with anticipation. They had come to choose a son—long-awaited, already deeply loved. Inside, their guide showed them a room; but it was not a boy who caught Emma’s eye, but a small, sorrowful girl in damp clothes, blue eyes wide and lonely. “Let’s see that little girl,” Emma whispered, and Sophie squeezed her hand. The staff hesitated: “But you wanted a boy. This girl isn’t prepared for visitors.” Still, they insisted, and soon found themselves before the child: freshly washed now, her cheeks flushed, she smiled shyly and reached out—revealing her legs, twisted and turned because of a birth defect. Sophie scooped her into her arms; the child pressed her damp face against Sophie’s cheek, and both Sophie and Emma found their eyes wet with tears. In the administrator’s office, they learned her story: unwanted by her overwhelmed parents, the little girl—Lily—had been abandoned to the state. “Decide for yourselves if you can take on such a challenge,” the director cautioned. But Sophie and Emma already knew the answer in their hearts. Medical experts confirmed: surgeries could give Lily a normal, healthy childhood. Sacrifices would need to be made, but with hard work and love, they could succeed. After paperwork and court proceedings, they finally brought their daughter home. Months of hospital stays and sleepless nights followed, but eventually Lily’s legs were healed, and she was running and laughing like every other little girl. Gifted in art, Lily amazed everyone with her talent, brightening exhibitions with lively landscapes and joyful scenes. At school, she was a star—clever, well-loved, always surrounded by friends. No one would ever guess the hardships she—and her devoted parents—had endured, or how love had changed her life. Since Lily’s arrival, fortune smiled on Sophie and Emma. Business flourished, and they soon moved to London, enrolling their daughter in an excellent school. Lily, now in year six, remains their pride: beautiful, kind, radiant—everyone’s favourite. A blessing from Heaven—that’s how everyone knows her.

Gods Gift…

The morning was gray and gloomy, with heavy clouds dragging low across the sky, and a distant rumble of thunder. The first spring storm was on its way.

The long winter had finally ended, but spring seemed hesitant to arrive. The wind was cold and gusty, tugging last years dead leaves along the pavement, torn from corners and blown into new ones. Only the bravest blades of grass had managed to poke through the stubborn earth. Even the buds on the trees were reluctant, their secrets still locked away.

Everything outside seemed to be waiting for rain. The winter just gone had been a stingy one: little snow, lots of bitter cold winds. The land hadnt had a chance to rest or drink its fill, and now it seemed to pine for the coming storm.

The rain would be just what was neededa big, proper downpour, washing away dust and waking everything up for real. Only then would spring truly start, lush and budding, overflowing with promise.

When it did, the world would burst into green grass and wildflowers, trembling leaves and sweet fruit in the gardens. Birds would sing, busy with their nests among the new leaves and cherry blossoms. Life carries on.

Alex, come and have your breakfast! called Victoria from the kitchen. Your coffees going cold.

The aroma of coffee and eggs drifted through the house. Getting up seemed impossible after the hard conversation the night before, Victorias crying, a night spent restless and lost in thought.

But, of course, you have tolife goes on.

Victoria looked shattered too, red-eyed with dark circles beneath. She offered her pale cheek for Alex to kiss and gave him a weary, resigned smile.

Morning, love, she said quietly. Looks like a storms brewing. God, I hope it rains soonmaybe spring will finally arrive properly then! I had a poem come to mind, she added, glancing out the window:

I wait for spring as Id wait for salvation
From all that winter cold and isolation.
For spring to clear confusions sprawling maze,
To set my tangled paths ablaze with days
Of sunlight, hope,
Of peace,
Of trust,
Of honest change.
Spring, wont you come already?

Alex pulled her into a hug, kissing her fair head. Her hair smelled of summer meadows and daisies. His heart ached with helplessness. My poor, sweet girlwhy has life been so cruel to us? All those years, hope had kept them afloat.

But yesterday, their great hopean expert, one of the top professorshad given them a final answer.

Im terribly sorry, but you wont be able to have children, hed said. Your time in Chernobyl, Alex… unfortunately, the consequences were unavoidable. Medicine can do nothing for you here. Im very sorry.

Victoria wiped her eyes and shook her head, as if to clear away the misery.

Alex, Ive thought it through. We have to adopt. There are so many children out there, alone and waiting. Lets bring home a little boy. Lets raise him, make him our son. Do you agree? After all these years… weve waited so long. Tears spilled freely down her cheeks. Alex held her tightunable to stop his own tears.

Of course I agree! Please, love, dont cry.

Just then, the thunder crashed so loudly the whole house shivered. And there it was: the sky opened up and the rain poured down. Rain at last! Theyd prayed for this over and over.

The rain came on thick and fast, darkening the windows as if night had descended. The downpour and thunder rattled the glass, lightning flashes stuttered overhead. Alex and Victoria, arms around each other, stood by the window, feeling the chill of stray raindrops through the open latch, breathing in that unmistakable smell of April rain.

The heaviness in their hearts began to lift, washed away with the storm. All they wanted now was for the rain to last, that blessed spring rainsign of life, hope, and everything new.

Just a few days later, they were waiting outside the doors to the orphanage. Theyd arranged a visit, the start of something huge: choosing the son theyd dreamed of, who already felt like a member of their family. The anticipation, the longing to love, teach, and watch a child growit was overwhelming.

Both of them felt their hearts pounding in their chests as Alex rang the bell. The door swung open; theyd been expected.

The first chat with the orphanage head had happened earlier in the week. Now, a sister led them through the rooms of hopeful children, introducing the little ones one by one: ages, backgrounds, a couple of facts about their parents.

In the very first room, Victorias eye fell on a girl sat forlornly, damp nappy and all, on a plastic sheet. She was a mess: grubby shirt, dried snot under her nose, but those massive blue eyes were unforgettablequiet, sad, watching the grown-ups pass by. Alex felt his heart twist in his chest. This is what abandonment looks like, he thought. This is why these homes exist.

In the next room, babies were arranged in cots. The sister gently picked them up, turned them around for inspection. Its like a market stall, Alex thought. And were the customers. All thats missing is a price per pound.

Victoria leaned in and whispered, Lets go back to the girl from the first room.

Alex squeezed her shoulder.

Sister, can we see the blue-eyed girl from before, please?

But you wanted a boy! the sister said, a little flustered. We hadnt prepared her for you.

Wed really like to see her again, Victoria insisted. So they went back.

Ill fetch Miss Harrington, the sister said, gesturing to two chairs. Please wait here.

Victoria pressed close to Alex. Lets take her home, AlexI felt something the minute I saw her.

I did too. She looks like youher eyes, her hair. And she seems so lost.

Miss Harrington arrived, clearly uneasy. Shes not the right child for you. Shes… complicated.

But why not? Shes perfect. And she really does look like Victoriasee for yourself! Alex was already heading into the room.

The staff had washed the little one, changed her nappy and sheet. She looked brighter now, pink-cheeked, eyes sparkling as she saw them return. She reached out and tried to standVictoria clutched Alexs arm.

The girls feet were turned the wrong way.

Without thinking, Alex lifted her up. She snuggled in, her wet nose against his face, and stilled.

Tears filled his eyes. Victoria wept into his shoulder. Miss Harrington turned away to dab at her own damp eyes.

Come with me. Sisterbring Emily, the headmistress said briskly.

Emily had been born to older, worn-out parents somewhere in a remote northern village. It seemed they hadnt wanted another childEmily arrived with twisted lower legs, her feet badly deformed. When her parents saw her, her father refused even to take her home. They were told an operation might save her, but he said he had neither the money nor space for a cripple. He had his hands full with enough children already.

So Emily ended up here.

It must be your decision, said Miss Harrington. With time and medical interventionyes, she could live a full life. But it will take money, patience, and above all, love. Think carefully. Ill give you the consultants details. Speak to him, find out what youre facing. Ill give you one month. Dont come before thenchildren like Emily settle quickly, especially the ones whove suffered.

A month later, Alex and Victoria knew their answer from day one. During their talk with the consultant in London, they learned Emily would need several operations and a lot of care, but eventually, shed be able to run and play like any childno scars, no reminders. Alex did the mathselling their new car and putting the never-finished house up for sale would cover the costs. Theyd settle for their modest one-bed flat for now. As long as their daughter was well, they needed nothing more.

They waited anxiously for the month to pass.

At last, they stood once more at the orphanage door. Alex held a bunch of peonies; Victoria had a huge bag of treats for the children. Miss Harringtons mouth trembled, her eyes shone. How luckyanother child finds parents.

They headed straight to see Emily.

Shed grownher fair hair was curling, her cheeks flush, little teeth shining in her smile. She was chatting away and came to both Alex and Victoria for a cuddle. Everyone had tears pricking their eyes. That day, Alex and Victoria learned everything about Emilys feeding, care, and routine, readying for the road ahead. Officially, they still had hoops to jump throughthe paperwork for adoption was daunting. With Miss Harringtons advice, they sorted out the legal side. Emilys parents lost any rights, and there was no going back.

Soon afterward, they brought their daughter home. Victoria left work to be a full-time mum. Their days became a flurry of preparing Emily for her first operation at the London clinic. A month in hospital flew bythen Emily was showing her daddy how she could feed herself porridge, mew like a kitten, pretend to be a butting Billy goat. Her legs were still hidden under long trousers, and she waddled uncertainly, but she was quick, chatty, and knew everyone by name.

She absolutely adored Alex. My daddy, shed insist. And it stuckeven Victoria started calling him Daddy too. He was utterly devoted, and Emily was the light of their lives.

A year later, her legs were corrected furthermore trips up to London, more pain. Emily endured it bravely; Victoria spent sleepless nights by her side. Finallyvictory: legs straight, just like everyone elses, and as eager to run and play as any other little girl.

At five, Emily started nursery. Her teachers noticed a talent for drawing and encouraged it. By six, she was enrolled at the local art school. Her workbold, joyful pictures of fields and sunny dayswas soon popping up in childrens exhibitions, surprising everyone with her talent and her age.

At seven, Emily went to school. It was clear right awayshe was a natural leader. Bright, lively, she was friendly to everyone, top of the class at both academics and art, and had even joined the dance club. Her friends were always around her, laughter followed wherever she went. Her parents could attend any meeting at school and know theyd always hear good things about Emily. No one had any idea of the journey she or her parents had facednot her birth parents, but the ones whod raised her so lovingly.

Since Emily joined the family, things had only gotten better for Alex and Victoria. Alexs small business finally started to flourish, and before long, they realised their dream of moving to London. They found a lovely flat and enrolled Emily in one of the best schools.

Now, Emilys in year six, still top of the class, still excelling at painting, still that kind, bright girl with the sky-blue eyes and golden braids. Everyone adores her. Truly, shes a blessing. Gods gift, thats what she is.