Discovering that her child was born with a disability, his mother signed an abandonment notice eleven years ago. This document was seen by Sanka himself when he delivered personal files to the medical centre.

Eleven years ago, when his mother learned that her newborn son would be born with a limp, she filled out a refusal form. Sam Ives saw that paper himself when he was delivering personal files to the infirmary at the childrens home. The nurse handed him a stack of folders and told him to follow her, then her telephone rang, she hurried off, waving him toward the infirmary and saying, You sort it out yourself. She never imagined that, seeing his own surname on a file, Sam would open the folder and read his mothers refusal letter.

In every orphanage children wait for their parents, but Sam stopped waiting. He also stopped weeping. His heart grew a steel shell that shielded him from the slights of others, from loneliness, from any lack of love. The home, like any other, had its own customs.

On the eve of New Years, all the residents wrote letters to Father Christmas. The headmistress passed the letters to benefactors, who did what they could to grant the childrens wishes. Some of those letters even reached the local airshow squadron. Most of the young scribblers asked for one miracle: to find a mother and a father. Those who opened the letters were left scratching their heads over what presents to buy.

One December, aircraft engineer Major Chapman received such a note. He slipped it into the pocket of his flight jacket, intending to read it later at home and discuss possibilities with his wife and daughter. That evening, as the family sat down to dinner, he remembered the envelope, tore it open and read aloud, Dear adults, if you can, please give me a laptop. No need for toys or clothes we have enough of those. With the internet I could find friends, perhaps even relatives. At the bottom was the signature: Sam Ives, 11 years.

What a clever child, his wife remarked. Indeed, the internet can connect him to anyone he needs. Their daughter, Emily, frowned, read the letter again and thought aloud. Father, he isnt really hoping to find his parents, she said. He doesnt search for them because they arent there. The laptop is his lifeline out of solitude. He writes find friends or relatives. Strangers can become family. Lets take all the money from my piggy bank, buy him a laptop and give it to him together.

The New Years celebration at the home went on as usual. There was a programme, then Father Christmas and Mrs. Snow lit the tree. Sponsors handed out gifts, and sometimes families took a few children for a weekend holiday. Sam, as always, expected no one to notice him. He had learned that the pretty girls were the ones who received attention; the boys were left ignored. He had written his letter simply because everyone else did.

That night a man in an RAF uniform entered the hall. Sams heart gave a brief flutter, but he turned away and breathed quietly. He took a bag of sweets and, limping, headed for the exit.

Sam Ives! a voice called, and he turned. Standing behind him was the same airman. Startled, Sam froze, unsure what to do.

Hello, Sam, the airman said. We received your letter and would like to give you a present. But first, lets get to know each other. Im Andrew, but you can call me Uncle Andrew.

Beside him stood a beautiful woman. Im Aunt Natalie, she said.

Emily stepped forward, smiling. Im Emily, and Im the same age as you.

Sam introduced himself, Im Sam Ives. The girl wanted to ask something, but the man handed Sam a box and said, Its for you. Come with us to a room where well show you how to use the laptop.

They entered a spare classroom where the children usually did evening lessons. Emily powered the laptop on, logged him into a system, opened a web browser, and signed him up for a British social network. Uncle Andrew sat nearby, offering advice now and then. Sam felt the warmth, strength and protection of the adults around him.

Emily chattered like a magpie, but Sam noticed she was no whiner; she handled the computer with ease and was active in the local football club. When they left, Aunt Natalie embraced him, her perfume a fleeting, sweet scent that tickled his nose and eyes. Sam stood still for a heartbeat, then, with a breath released, walked down the corridor.

Well be back soon, Emily called after him.

From that day Sams life changed completely. He no longer cared about nicknames or the teasing of other children. The internet became a well of useful knowledge. He had long been fascinated by aircraft; he learned that the first massproduced military transport plane in Britain was the Avro Anson, designed by Sir Geoffrey de Havilland, and that the Avro Anson had many variants.

On weekends Uncle Andrew and Emily visited. They sometimes went to the circus, played arcade games, ate icecream. Sam felt shy to accept their generosity, but he could not deny the comfort it brought.

One crisp morning the headmistress called him into her office. Inside she found Aunt Natalie, and Sams heart thumped uneasy in his throat.

Sam, the headmistress said, Natalie wants to let you spend two days with her. If you agree, Ill sign you out.

Sam, today is Aviation Day. Uncle Andrews squad will hold a big celebration. Hes inviting you to attend. Will you go?

Sam nodded eagerly, unable to speak.

Then its settled, Aunt Natalie said, signing the permission slip.

She took Sams hand, and they left the office together. First they stopped at a large highstreet shop, buying him a pair of jeans and a shirt. Noticing his worn trainers, Natalie led him to the shoe department. Their sizes didnt match, so she promised, After the celebration well visit an orthopaedic clinic and order proper boots. One will have a special sole so your legs will be level and youll hardly limp at all. No one will even notice.

They then visited a barbershop and drove home to fetch Emily. For the first time Sam stepped out of the orphanages gates. He had never been inside a familys flat, never known the comfort of a home. The scent of a livedin house, the hum of a kettle, the gentle clatter of dishes enveloped him. He perched on the edge of a sofa and looked around. Directly in front of him stood a huge aquarium, fish of every colour swimminga sight he had only ever seen on television.

Im ready, Emily said. Lets go, Sam, Mum will be waiting.

They rode the lift down and walked to a car. By a playground a little boy shouted, Lamppostgrandma, lamppostgranddad! Emily stopped him, and the boy scrambled into the sandpit, laughing. What are you doing? Sam asked, lying on the sand. Just joking, the boy replied. Do it somewhere else, Emily told him.

The airfield was festooned with bright banners. Uncle Andrew met them and led Sam to his aircraft, a gleaming silver bomber that took Sams breath away. The sheer power of the machine moved him to his core. An airshow followed; people waved, shouted, and cheered. When Uncle Andrews plane roared overhead, Emily shouted, Dads flying! Dad! Sam jumped, shouting clumsily, Dad! Look, Dads up there! He didnt notice that Emily had gone quiet, watching her mother wipe away tears.

Later, after dinner, Uncle Andrew sat beside Sam and placed his arm over Sams shoulders.

We believe everyone should belong to a family, he said. Only in a family can you truly learn to love, protect, and be loved. Will you become part of ours?

A tight knot rose in Sams throat, choking his breath. He pressed close to the man and whispered, Dad, Ive always waited for you.

A month later a contented Sam bid farewell to the orphanage. He descended the steps with pride, holding his fathers hand, limping only a little. At the gate he paused, turned, and waved to the children and carers on the porch.

Beyond this line lies a new life, his father said. Forget the bad things you endured here, but remember the people on that porch. They helped you survive. Be forever grateful to those who gave you a chance.