My name is Ethan.  Ethan Price.  We (we being my wife Michelle and myself) have had the privilege for the past year-and-a-half in raising a child who's come into our lives, a child in need of a family, in need of a home, in need of love.

We applied to adopt a child over three years ago.  Never in our wildest dreams did we expect to be met with so much in the way of red tape, plus all the nerve-wracking interviews, home studies, mounds of paperwork, etc.  We wanted a little girl initially; however we soon decided we'd much rather have a boy.

Didn't matter if the child in question was handicapped or healthy:  as long as we had a child of our own to raise, we didn't give a rip about his background.  All we wanted more than anything was to be parents to a child in need.

We heard about Ignatz* (*name chnnged; not his real name) about two years ago.  He lived in an orphanage in Ireland; he was born with cerebral palsy that left him wheelchair-bound, unable to walk.  He was beautiful:  he had shockingly-orange hair that stuck up in all directions, a heavily-freckled face, and huge, luminous green eyes. 

Ignatz could talk, see, even hear; his problems were more physical.  He had trouble moving his limbs, and his body was way too weakened to hold him up if he were to stand.  He spent his days whiling away in his crib, or when up, sitting in an old, delapidated wheelchair that was about ready to give up the ghost, it was so battered.

We saw Ignatz's picture; we immediately fell in love with him.  It wasn't long afterwards when we started calling him as our son.  In our mind,  he was already ours.

Plans were made to get the boy to America.  After clearing the way from doctors in Ireland, Ignatz was flown to America.  We would then be meeting him in a matter of a few short hours; we were beyond the point of excitement.

We already had two other adopted children:  Manuri (nicknamed Nuri) from India and Rosemary from China; what was one more child to love??  They were already arguing over who would take care of Ignatz once he arrived; for a while, I thought we were going to have to seperate the girls because of their constant bickering was driving us crazy!

They were looking forward to the arrival of their little brother from Ireland.  We soon decided that little Ignatz would be known here in America as Jerome Shamus Michael; we couldn't wait until he came out of the plane, and into our arms--and hearts.

Our lives as we knew it was about to change in a big, dramatic way that we could have never dreamed or imagined.

~End of part one.~