“I want to go home,” my son whispered in my ear as we stepped into baggage claim in Athens, Greece.
Home, for him, equaled comfortable. Safe.
Athens was the equivalent of new. Unknown. Scary.
I yearned to make him feel comfortable. To help him to embrace the new adventure we’d just stepped into.
But I couldn’t.
All I could do was pray for his heart. And affirm that we were staying.