Twelve years ago, on a freezing morning during my trash route, I found a stroller abandoned on the sidewalk with twin baby girls inside—barely six months old, cold, and alone. No note, no parents, nothing.
I called 911, stayed with them until police and child services arrived, and watched them take the babies away to safety. I couldn’t stop thinking about them afterward, and that night I told my husband, Steven. He surprised me by suggesting we try to foster them.
Soon after, we learned the twins were profoundly deaf. Without hesitation, we still chose them. A week later, Hannah and Diana came into our home, and we learned sign language together while adjusting to exhaustion, financial strain, and constant learning.
Over time, they thrived. Hannah loved fashion and design, Diana loved building and engineering. At twelve, they created adaptive clothing for kids with disabilities—clothes designed for comfort and accessibility.
Their idea was picked up by a company, leading to a major paid clothing line worth hundreds of thousands in royalties. But more than the success, it was their creativity and resilience that mattered.
Now teenagers, they’ve grown into talented, confident young women. I found them that morning in a stroller—but in truth, they became my family, and they changed my life just as much as I changed theirs.