I was told my twin daughters died the day they were born. I spent five long years grieving them. Then, on my very first day working at a daycare, I noticed two little girls with the exact same rare eyes I have—one blue, one brown. One of them rushed toward me and cried, “Mom, you came back!” What I uncovered after that moment would stay with me forever.
I had promised myself I wouldn’t break down on my first day.
During the entire drive there, I repeated it like a mantra: this job was supposed to be a new beginning. A different city meant turning a new page. I would walk into that daycare calm, professional, and completely composed.
I was arranging paint jars and crayons on a table in the back when the morning class started arriving.
