A little orphaned boy cries in church, begging God to send his mother to take him. The next minute, he turns pale when a voice answers from behind, saying, “I’ll take you.” A string of untold emotions is attached to kids abandoned by their parents. Six-year-old Alan was one such neglected child who yearned to see his mother but never got that chance. One day, in a serendipitous encounter in church, little Alan’s world shifted. He was crying, begging God to send his mom to him, telling God how different his world would be if his mother were with him.
Amid his loud cries and heartwarming argument with God, a strange voice spoke up from behind, offering to take him…”Dear Jesus, they say you hear everything. My guardians in the foster home told me to knock on your door and ask for everything I needed. I want my mommy. Can you please send her to me?” Alan cried as he folded his hands in prayer and stared at the crucifix. His eyes were painfully red, and his soft, pink cheeks were wet. “My nanny told me you answer everyone’s prayers. Then why aren’t answering mine?”
The vestibule echoed with Alan’s loud cries. He was heartbroken. He did not want to return to the shelter, where kids often poked fun at him. They constantly taunted him saying his mom would never return and he had no choice but to wait for someone to adopt him.
“Nobody would be interested in taking a crybaby like you home,” were some of the harshest things he heard from fellow kids in the shelter. Alan cried his heart out that day, demanding God for an answer. “Alan, shhh!” his guardian, Nancy, interrupted. “It’s a church. Be quiet, and don’t cry. People are watching you. Please calm down.” Alan tried to control his tears. He kept staring at the crucifix until he saw a woman with a child enter the church. He could no longer hold back his tears and started crying again. “Jesus, you’re not answering me. Please, I want to be with my mommy like that girl. Nanny, why is Jesus not answering? You told me he answered all our prayers, but why hasn’t he told me anything?”
Nancy stared at the boy and grinned at his innocent questions. I’ll take you,” a woman’s voice suddenly said from behind them. “My baby, I’ve come for you. Please stop crying. “Alan and Nancy were startled. They turned around, and behind them was the woman with the child Alan had seen moments ago. “Alan, my boy! I’ve come for you. I’ve come to take you home,” she cried. “Who are you? How do you know the kid’s name?” questioned Nancy, holding Alan tight.
“My name is Annette. I’m Alan’s mother. I come here daily to see him and ensure he’s fine.” “Your son? Do you have any proof?” Annette took out a photo of her holding a newborn baby in her arms. “I left him at the shelter’s doorstep six years ago.” “This is unbelievable. This was how Alan looked when I first picked him up from the doorstep on that rainy night. I heard the loud cries of a baby outside on the patio and found him there. Why did you leave your baby?