Seeds Never Sent

Chapter 1

Witnessing my sister bestow respect upon someone was a rare occurrence. She had this uncanny ability to set incredibly high standards for everyone in her life, making it all the more difficult for anyone to meet her expectations. However, among her discerning judgment, there was one person who consistently earned her unwavering admiration – Xavier Puckett, the Greene family case manager at Crestwood Orphanage.

Xavier possessed an air of confidence and kindness that was hard to come by. His warm smile and genuine concern for each and every child under his care created an aura of trust and respect. I had seen countless caretakers come and go, failing to leave a lasting impression. But Xavier was different.

From the moment he stepped foot into Crestwood, it was evident that he was not just another staff member fulfilling his duties. He saw beyond the walls of the orphanage, recognizing the untapped potential within each of us. With his boundless enthusiasm, he became an unwavering pillar of support, guiding us through the tumultuous journey of adolescence.

It wasn't just Xavier's professional competence that drew my sister's admiration; it was his unwavering belief in the power of dreams. He would spend hours listening to our hopes and aspirations, encouraging us to reach for the stars, even when the world seemed determined to keep us grounded. His genuine interest in our lives made us feel seen, heard, and valued – a sentiment we rarely experienced.

It came as no surprise why my sister held Xavier in such high regard. His genuine care and unwavering dedication had transformed Crestwood Orphanage into more than just a temporary shelter; it had become a sanctuary where hope flourished and dreams took flight.

With Xavier at the helm, we were no longer abandoned souls navigating the trials of life – we were a community bound together by shared experiences and the unwavering belief in a brighter future.

The memory of that fateful day when Xavier pulled us aside to deliver the news of our imminent relocation to a new foster home is forever etched into my mind. Elgi says it's called a "flashbulb memory." I can still feel my heart skipping as his words sank in. A new family? Could it be possible? I had never experienced the warmth and stability of a real, loving family before. Up until that point, Xavier had been my lifeline – the only figure who played the role of a responsible adult in my turbulent life. And of course, there was Elgi, my rock through thick and thin, the one constant amidst the chaos.

But the idea of having parents, people who would care for me unconditionally, sent a surge of hope coursing through my veins. It was as if a flickering flame had been ignited in the darkest recesses of my soul. For years, I think Elgi had convinced herself that she could survive on her own, that she didn't need anyone else. Yet deep down, a longing for the love and stability of a family had always lingered in both of us, dormant but never extinguished.

Xavier's words pierced through the walls of her self-imposed emotional fortress, shaking the very foundation of her beliefs. The prospect of a family brought forth a whirlwind of emotions – excitement from me, trepidation and a touch of skepticism from Elgi. What would it be like to experience the warmth of a mother's embrace and the strength of a father's presence? Would they understand me, accept me for who I truly was?

As we stood there, absorbing the weight of Xavier's announcement, I'm sure Elgi couldn't help but question the fragility of the life we had built thus far. But now, the universe seemed to be offering us a chance – a chance to rewrite our narrative, to step into uncharted territory, and to redefine what family meant to us. It was a daunting prospect, but one that held a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows of the Greene family past.

I still vividly recall the day we left the orphanage behind, eager to embrace a new chapter in our lives. It seemed as though they were in a hurry to find us a new home, so we didn’t get the chance to meet our new foster parents until we arrived at their house. Xavier tried his best to prepare us during the car ride, but I was just a naïve eight-year-old, and most of his words slipped past me like whispers in the wind. Nevertheless, I’ll do my best to recollect those fragmented memories and fill in some of the gaps.