At 19, I was hit by a car, leaving me paralyzed and trapped in a wheelchair. My father, an alcoholic who forced me to work from a young age, visited me in the hospital only to declare me “useless” and walk away, abandoning me to my fate.

For six years, I struggled with my injury alone until I was placed in a recovery center, where I met Carol Hanson, a compassionate therapist who pushed me toward recovery. With her unwavering support, I eventually took my first steps again. But as I regained my ability to walk, I was filled with fear, having no family or home to return to.

Carol offered me a place in her home, and I gratefully accepted. She encouraged me to go back to school, even offering to lend me money for college. Inspired by her, I pursued a nursing degree, graduating with honors and specializing in neo-natal care.

One day, after a brief stint of local fame, my father reappeared, looking haggard and seeking help. He claimed to be ill and broke, hoping I would take him in. But I remembered how he had abandoned me in my time of need. I coldly turned him away, knowing he didn’t deserve my help.

Later, Carol asked if she could adopt me as her daughter. Overwhelmed with emotion, I accepted, finally finding the loving family I had always longed for. Despite my difficult past, I was blessed with a new beginning and a mother who truly cherished me.