We never imagined meeting a young child that resembled our daughter at home when my wife and I went to an institution to adopt. When we learned the unthinkable truth, the shock got worse.

“Are you prepared, Sarah? Olivia will be watched by my mother, so we will have the entire day. As my wife descended the stairs, I tied my shoes. As she brushed away the imaginary wrinkles on her blouse, she appeared anxious.”

“I think so, Michael,” she responded quietly, with a hint of doubt in her voice. “I simply hope that we’re acting appropriately. What happens if the youngster doesn’t relate to us?”

I approached her and took her hands. “We have been discussing this for months. Every book has been read by you. We are more prepared than we will ever be. Besides, your pancakes are irresistible to kids.”

Sarah’s cheeks turned rosy as she laughed. “Thanks for that vote of confidence.”

My first marriage’s five-year-old daughter, Olivia, peered out of the living room. “Can I have pancakes tomorrow, Mommy?”

Sarah’s expression grew softer. “Of course, sweetheart.” A glimmer of grief was seen in her eyes as she smiled. Though I knew she desired another child who would call her “Mommy” right away, I also knew she loved Olivia as if she were her own.

There was a lot of excitement in the car as we headed to the refuge. Sarah twisted her wedding ring while gazing out the window.

My question was, “You okay?”

“I’m just scared,” she said. “What if we can’t find a child who feels like… ours?”

I grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Yes, we will. As you often say,” “Love finds a way.”

The director of the shelter gave us a hearty welcome when we got there. Mrs. Thompson was an elderly lady with gentle eyes and silver hair. “Hello. I’m so happy you’re here.”

With a slight, courteous grin, Sarah nodded. I’m grateful, Mrs. Thompson. We’re both ecstatic and a little anxious.

Mrs. Thompson, “That’s natural,” said comfortingly. “Why don’t we start with a quick chat in my office?”

We described our criteria for a child in her comfortable office, which was filled with pictures of contented families. “We’re open to any background,” I said. “We just want to feel a connection.”

Mrs. Thompson gave a nod. “I get it. Allow me to introduce you to the playroom. Every child is different, and I believe that when the time is right, you’ll sense that connection.”

There was a lot of laughter in the playroom. Kids were playing games, running, and drawing. When Sarah noticed a young boy constructing a block tower, her countenance brightened.

“Hi there!” she crooked next to him. “That skyscraper is quite tall. What’s your name?”

The boy smiled. “Noah. Keep it from toppling over.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sarah chuckled.

I was conversing with a girl who was sketching on a chalkboard. “What are you making?”

“A unicorn,” she declared with assurance. “You’re large. Are you a father?”

“I am,” I said. “Do you like dads?”

She said, “They’re okay,” and shrugged.

Sarah’s expression, which was a mixture of uncertainty and delight, attracted my attention across the room. I was aware that she shared my feelings. How were we going to pick anyone?

I spun around as I heard a small touch on my shoulder. A young girl, perhaps five years old, with large, inquisitive eyes, stood there.

“Are you my new dad?” she said in a quiet yet assured tone.

My heart stopped beating. Her honey-brown hair, big cheeks, and deep dimples when she smiled were all exactly like Olivia’s.

“Uh, I…” My throat choked on my voice.

As if she already knew the answer, the girl cocked her head and studied me with a look of naive expectation. Then she held out her hand as though to make sure of something in her thoughts.

At that moment, I noticed a tiny blemish on her wrist that resembled a crescent. My heart pounded. The birthmark was exactly the same in the same place on Olivia.

I mumbled, “Sarah,” as I turned to face my wife, who had been standing a few feet away. Her face was pale, and she was holding on to the edge of a table for support. “Look at her wrist.”

Sarah took a step forward, her eyes wide. “Michael… she—she’s…”

The young girl gave a hesitant smile. She held up a jigsaw piece and asked, “Do you like puzzles?” “I’m really good at them.”

As my mind raced, I knelt down, my knees barely supporting me. “What’s your name?” My voice shook as I managed to ask.

“Grace,” she said in a cheery, bright voice. “The lady here said it suits me.”

Grace. My chest constricted. That name. It struck me like a bolt of lightning. If we ever had another kid, my ex-wife Karen had wanted the name Grace.

I hurried to my feet, my head spinning. It brought up memories from long ago. Karen had arrived at my place four years prior, tense and restless.

She had continued, “Michael, I need to tell you something,” in a trembling voice. “I was expecting when we got divorced. I was at a loss for words. She is yours. I gave birth to a tiny girl. I—I am unable to care for her. Will you?”

Olivia entered my life in this way. However, twins? Karen had never spoken about twins before.

“Michael?” I was brought back to the present by Sarah’s words.

I glanced at Grace and then at her. She continued to smile while holding the puzzle piece as though nothing significant had just occurred.

I said, “I need to make a call,” and took my phone from my pocket.

I made my way to a more peaceful area of the playroom and called Karen. As I waited for her to pick me up, my hands were shaking.

“Michael?” After a few rings, Karen answered, her voice a mix of alarm and worry. “What’s happening? Is everything all right?”

“No, Karen.” “Not even close,” I answered, attempting to maintain a steady tone. Sarah and I are at a children’s shelter. This young girl is a perfect replica of Olivia. Karen, she has her birthmark. She is the twin of Olivia. Would you mind explaining?”

The line was weighted with silence. I thought she had hung up for a second. Then I heard her gasp involuntarily.

Her voice was hardly audible above a whisper as she murmured, “Michael,” “I—I didn’t think you’d ever find out.”

“You knew?” I said, finding it difficult to maintain my composure.

“Yes,” she acknowledged. “I had twins. I was frightened when I discovered I was pregnant. I was so impoverished that I could hardly care for myself. Michael, I couldn’t manage two infants. I thought Olivia would live a better life with you, so I handed her to you. When I was ready, I hoped to return for Grace, but I never became stable enough. I assumed that if you found out, you would despise me.”

“Hate you?” I said it again, raising my voice. “You misled me about my own child, Karen. You didn’t believe I was entitled to know?”

She broke off, “I was ashamed,” she added. “I believed that one day I could solve it. I reasoned that perhaps I would have an opportunity to correct it.”

I forced myself to remain composed as I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. “I’m taking her home, Karen. My daughter, Grace, is entitled to spend time with her family.”

Karen paused for a second. Then she whispered, “I get it. Michael, look after her. She is deserving.”

I hung up the phone and stood there for a while, allowing the situation to settle in. Grace was Olivia’s twin, not just a youngster with a similar appearance. My twin daughters.

When I returned to the playroom, I saw Sarah kneeling next to Grace, assisting her in putting a puzzle piece on the board. As I got closer, she raised her head, tears glimmering in her eyes.

“She’s ours,” I firmly declared.

With a shaky voice, Sarah nodded. “I already knew.”

Grace’s little face brightened as she glanced between us. “Does that mean you’re my new mom and dad?”

I took her small hand in mine as I knelt next to her. “Yes, Grace. That is precisely what it signifies.”

With tears streaming over her face, Sarah embraced her. She said in a whisper, “We’ve been waiting for you,”

Grace put her arms around Sarah and giggled. “I was aware of it. I simply knew.”

I came to the stunning realization that love works miracles rather than merely finding a way. This belonged to us.

The adoption procedure proceeded more quickly than we had anticipated. Mrs. Thompson and her staff were very helpful and helped us at every stage. It was made official a week later.

Olivia was waiting by the door on the day we brought her home, holding her favorite stuffed animal. When she spotted Grace, her eyes glowed.

“Daddy, who’s that?” she inquired in an inquisitive tone.

I bent over and drew Grace to me. “This is Grace, Olivia. She is your twin, your sister.”

Olivia’s mouth fell open. “A twin? Are we the same? She threw her arms around Grace and rushed ahead.”

Grace gave her a hug in return while laughing.

The girls were inseparable after that. Their favorite colors, birthmarks, and even sandwich preferences were all compared. The sight of them together staggered Sarah and me as we stood in the doorway.

Sarah wiped away her tears and remarked, “We did it,”

“No,” I muttered. “They did.”

Five years later, there is a lot of love and fun in our house. As only twins can, Olivia and Grace are sharing adventures and secrets.

Sarah has really embraced parenting and is savoring every happy, crazy moment.

I turned to Sarah one evening when the girls were rehearsing a dance routine in the living room. “Do you ever think about how far we’ve come?”

“All the time,” she grinned.

I became aware of how love had led us to this point as I saw our daughters interact. It served as a reminder that family is about the ties we choose to forge, not just DNA.

As always, love found a way.