When Christmas Eve finally arrived, our home was ready. I had extended invitations to a select group—those who had shown Maya kindness and acceptance, those who truly understood the meaning of family. Friends, neighbors, and a few relatives who had always made Maya feel welcome joined us, their presence a testament to the community we had built.

As everyone gathered in the living room, I saw Maya’s eyes light up with a joy that had been absent for too long. She was the center of attention, not because of her adoption or her age, but simply for being herself. We laughed, exchanged stories, and indulged in a feast that Maya had helped prepare, each dish a reflection of her culinary experiments and our shared kitchen adventures.