Epilogue
Epilogue
Every Christmas morning, before presents are opened or breakfast is served, our family follows one small tradition.
We open the front door.
No matter how cold it is.
No matter whether it is snowing, raining, or perfectly clear.
The girls stand together on the porch while my husband and I hold the door wide open.
Then, together, we say the same words:
"Everyone is welcome here."
It is a simple tradition.
It lasts less than a minute.
Most people would never understand why it matters.
But we do.
Because years ago, two little girls stood outside a closed door believing they had nowhere to go.
Today they are grown enough to know a different truth:
A home is not defined by the people who share your blood.
May you like
A home is defined by the people who never let you face the cold alone.
The End.
