I went to my son’s house for his birthday and found my five-year-old grandson shivering on the porch. He’d been left outside all day without food or water as punishment for forgetting to check the oven.
Through the window I saw laughter and celebration, but outside was a terrified little boy. My heart broke. I stormed in, confronted my son and his wife, and told them I was taking my grandson with me.
As he clung to me, crying that this wasn’t the first time, I knew I was doing the right thing. That night I chose my grandson’s safety over my son’s approval—and I don’t regret it.
