I don’t look anything like him, but I’m his son. There was never a day in my life where I felt like I didn’t belong. With all our skin colors, backgrounds, and differing abilities, we were unquestionably his children – loved equally and loved unconditionally. It’s so hard to no longer see his kind face, hear his calming voice, or be loved and prayed for. My Dad tragically passed away at the height of COVID in 2021 on the anniversary of Roe. His life, though, beautifully redeems that horrible day for me. He chose me. He chose nine more of my twelve siblings to cherish us, care for us, and call us his own through adoption.

His name was Henry Bomberger.

He was raised in a Mennonite home in Lancaster County, PA, otherwise known as Pennsylvania Dutch Country. Little did he know that he would, one day, fall in love with an amazing girl named Andrea, and they would become world-changers by simply loving God and loving people. Their stories were considerably different. He grew up in an intact home with married parents whose ownership of a small retail store brought the family economic stability. She grew up in a broken home with an alcoholic father and was placed in a children’s orphanage for a year while her parents separated. He grew up in a red brick, three-story house. She grew up in a double-wide trailer.

My mom’s experience in the children’s home instilled in her sweet little five-year-old heart the........

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