And earth has nothing I desire besides you.

(for privacy can't use his photo)

The subject line read, "Adoptive placement needed for legally free child: Mark M."

I nearly fell out of my chair when the email came through from our caseworker. I was teaching class. 7th period - my rowdiest bunch - on a Friday afternoon. Shawn was on business in Denver. We had just been formally approved to adopt a week prior. And yet here it was, our first potential match with a child.

The email came with a 2-page summary and a photograph. Just one photo, of an 8-year-old Hispanic boy holding a football that was bigger than his head. A bit too skinny to be a Threadgill/Mahan, Mark had a smile from ear to ear, skinny arms, a little jersey shirt on, and that giant football. My mom said he was "smiling with his eyes," and I agreed that it seemed he has the joy in his face that a child should, despite what he must have been through.

Shawn and I, in different states, scoured the information they sent on Mark. Intelligent, active and sporty, capable of caring and loving. Argumentative, challenging, defiant, dishonest. Swears like a sailor, wets the bed. No developmental, medical or physical special needs - only emotional. True to her word, our caseworker had sent us a child that matched our specifications exactly.

In a hasty phone conversation, both at work, Shawn and I agreed to submit our home study for consideration to be Mark's adoptive parents. Now we too are subject to the selection process.

Five days later, at dinner on her birthday, we told Shawn's mother about the possibility of Mark. Always supportive of us as a couple and in our adoption journey, Nancy was so excited to hear about Mark and to see his one precious photo. That night after we took Nancy home, she passed away in her sleep.

As I grow a bit older and more familiar with loss, I have seen how the youngest generation can bring joy and breathe new life into a family. Part of my adoption decision was based on the desire to keep our family going, to give back some of what the older generation gave to us, to keep moving forward. We don't know - and won't for some time - whether Mark will be the boy to experience this with us. Regardless, he represents to me that hope for our family and the future. Our child will know how special his grandmother was, and how open her heart was to him, sight unseen.