It all started like most visits, with case studies and paperwork, but what I didn't know was that the social worker I was supposed to be with was late, and in a way we were just burning time. Once she arrived, my worker said the words I'd been waiting to hear for the last month and a half "would you like to visit?" At this very moment I think my face must have looked like that of a child who was just told they could have ice cream for dinner. As we drove up the mountain, I was informed of the foster home we were visiting and the family whose children were in foster care. We also talked about another visit he had planned, but which had fallen through; this was to take place in a maternity home. As soon as we knocked on the door, an older woman and the sound of a baby jumping and giggling greeted us. We sat and discussed his growth, health and overall well-being as we played with the little man. Although he was clumsy and fell often, he barely supported himself to walk and his adoptive parents couldn't be more proud. On the way back down the mountain I was told more about the time spent with this family, as well as his older brothers. It was an amazing thing to see and I am so grateful to have been able to witness this