Six months after Swink’s first memory, a couple who owned a farm on the outskirts of town adopted him.

It was a glorious day when he was delivered to the old farmhouse to meet his new family. There were three in the core family, a father, mother, and grandmother on the mother’s side.

The memory of that day is still vivid in the boy’s mind. He loved the front porch that stretched the length of the house. He still can feel the warmth from the black wood stove that stood in the middle of the great room on the first floor of the house.

And the view. It was magnificent. The farmhouse itself was situated on a level expanse of land that seemed to have been carved out of the side of a large hill. At the top of the hill one could see the winding road pushing down toward the house. On the level expanse of the hill were several farm buildings and a separate small house where the grandmother lived. There was an assortment of farm animals, such as cows, chickens and pigs, which seemed to run freely. As one looked down into the lower valley, craggy rocks punched out of the ground and a small stream meandered through the pines.

To the young boy, this was paradise. A vision that he couldn’t have imagined until he saw it.

All of a sudden, out of the darkness, a full-fledged family had appeared to pull him out of the clutches of the darkness, which had permeated his being.

Swink still couldn’t believe his good fortune. Hey, a real life mom to take care of him.

He became quickly attached to the family, emotionally and spiritually.

The only manifestation of his troubled past was when he erupted in anger and distress when the mother figure attempted to leave him in the care of others. He became hostile and would only calm down after much reassurance that the new mother wouldn’t leave him like his first mother did.

For some reason, he got a new name also. The new family began to call him Bob.

To be continued…