With its uncomfortable booths and tiled floors, the restaurant reflected the chill of the winter air. Having recently made the decision to take in foster children, my family sat waiting to meet a 7-year-old girl who needed a home.She was accustomed to transient relationships and began calling my parents “Mom” and “Dad” at that first trial meeting. Filled with great optimism, we believed we could make her world different—that she might be grateful and understand the nuances of healthy family relationships. We quickly learned her sense of normal was our definition of chaos.