Like the upstairs attic of childhood, I used the downstairs for dreaming also. I thought about my past, my birthmother, and my origins. I never looked like anybody. I never felt connected to anybody. Yet, I never felt completely alone. Maybe that was because Mom told me God was always with me. I wondered what it would be like to know my birthmother, and to be able to see a reflection of myself. Where did I come from? Where am I going? What is my purpose?
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