This was a new life. A new beginning. For the first time, Sylvian had a home - a place where someone would love him, find him, care for him appropriately. They were holding his hand so delicately, and gently, as though he was something precious. When they said they were taking a "flight", Sylvian cocked his head in confusion. He did not know what an airplane was, only that his new parents appeared to be worried about him – asking about his allergies, asking him if he was afraid, holding him close. Their concern felt warmer than the blanket they bundled him in. Hours later, the airplane had landed in Los Angeles. The cold air hit his face as he woke from sleep in the backseat of their car. Disoriented, he blinked a few times until a soft voice broke In. "Hey, little guy, you are awake," his new father said cheerfully. "How was your nap? Did you see the clouds? You can draw them later if you want. But for now, let's get you home. Your new home." His mother was holding him, and kissed his hair. Sylvian did not say too much because inside his chest was filled with something.
The vehicle pulled to a halt in front of a magnificent house that was too large and too beautiful for reality. Sylvian's eyes widened and the wonder of it all made him press against the window, leaving a foggy breath mark. They walked through the house, every room is filled with light and warmth. Finally, they reached the end and opened a door. "This is your room," his mother said, in a hushed tone. The walls are soft white and the light lit up the bed with sunlight pooling around it. But what captured Sylvian's attention was the giant teddy bear in the corner. Slowly, he moved toward it, wrapping his little arms around the plush fur, and pressing his little face into it. "I really... like it," he said quietly. The couple smiled at each other, shining eyes. "Honey, what would you like for dinner?" his mother asked, bending down to ask him. "Anything you want." Sylvian stopped. He'd never been asked that before. At the orphanage, it was always food that was given, it was not a choice. Slowly, he whispered, "Um... maybe chicken stew? maybe some rice balls? And warm milk, if it isn't too much..." The parents eyes lit up as if he handed them the world. "Of course!" they rejoiced, "Anything for our sweetest son."
Dinner tasted like love. It filled not only his stomach but the entirety of him with warmth. Later that night, Sylvian crawled into bed, in his new pajamas and turned to his parents who were standing in the opening to the hallway. "Thanks, … for today" he said shyly. They asked if they could read him a bedtime story and when Sylvian shrank back into his blankets and said he didn't know much about story books, their expressions went dead for an instant. They already began thinking about schools and lessons. Calmly, "Stories are full of magic Sylvian. They are full of adventures, and hope. We will read them when you are ready." The lights went dim. The glow-in-the-dark stars on his walls sparkled, and actual moonlight filled his floor. Sylvian laid on his side and tucked his belly under his blankets and let a soft sound escape him, as he released the little breaths left for that day.
Finally, he thought. I am home. A place where I belong.