Sofia

Sofia is five. Before anything else about her, there is the smile — bright and full and given freely to strangers, nurses, bus drivers, the dog at the park. She came into the system this past winter under circumstances her caseworkers speak carefully about.

She was placed with a foster family experienced in caring for young children recovering from neglect. There was a private bedroom waiting for her. There were new pajamas folded at the foot of the bed. There was a stuffed elephant she named Elsie on the first night.

She is a dancer. She is an imaginer of elaborate tea parties. She is learning that raising her voice doesn't make the grown-ups leave. She is learning that hungry is a thing that goes away when you eat.

She wants to read a whole book by herself. She wants to go to a "real school." She wants to know the words for how she feels so she can tell her foster mom without crying.

Speech therapy gives her those words. Early learning materials catch her up on what she missed. Healthy meals build a body that her preschool years didn't get to. Every dollar is a door she walks through.