Anne of Green Gables is one of my best friends.
I've loved her for over 30 years, and I know her better than I know myself.
I've spent time introducing her to my daughters, hoping they will love her as much as I do (they don't seem to, but that's okay because it means she's more available to me when I want to spend time with her).
Every time I read her story, I am filled with a sweet peace and joy. I walk around the house smiling over her childhood antics, inspired by her young love, and determined to follow her tender example of motherhood.
I just love Anne.
However, her life, her innocence, her healing, her everything is a lie.
Kids who are abandoned, abused, and adopted simply don't act like Anne.
They certainly have the potential to heal and love and be loved as Anne does, but their road is far rougher, far less sweet than hers.
We are approaching the 1 year anniversary of the arrival of our newest 4 into our home. We have all grown so much!
But we are also battle scarred and sick at heart . . . and many of us are sick in mind and spirit.
It has not been a funny year where our worst troubles have been arguments with friends or ineffective hair care products.
It has been a gut-wrenching year where our simplest troubles have been arguments with friends and finding the right hair care products.
I still love Anne.
Her story is fiction.
But I love fiction.
The best kind of fiction teaches truths wrapped up in the made-up stories.
Truths like how Marilla was constantly stumped with how to best teach and love Anne and how she messed up often but had Matthew to help make up the difference.
Truths like how Anne was so exuberant that sometimes she made foolish choices but really she had good in her heart.
Truths like how forgiveness and apologies and working hard together matter.
So it doesn't matter than Anne of Green Gables is (sometimes) a lie.
Adoption is much, much harder than her darling story makes it out to be.
I still love Anne.