Dear Mutti,

For those of you who don't know this about me, I lived in a foster home for 2 or 3 years at a very young age. The Mittmanns took very good care of me when I lived in their home. Peter, I called "Vati," which means "Dad" in German, and Julie, I called "Mutti," which means "Mom" in German. Even after I was adopted at the age of 3, Peter and Julie always supported me. As a kid I would write them letters addressing them as "Mutti and Vati" and they would always write me back. I was always so excited for the day that I would go and visit them for a few days. One of my favorite memories from that place was when I would get up early on Sunday morning to help Peter make breakfast. We would make a German dish that I am not familiar with, but it was delicious, no doubt. Over the years I continued to keep in contact with them. They even came to my high school graduation, to my surprise. I had sent them an announcement of my graduation, but I did not expect them to come, much less drive a few hours north to see me, then immediately turn around and drive home. Our families have sent each other Christmas cards as well, and sometimes even a gift. One of my mom's favorite Christmas CDs was a gift from Julie and Peter. This Christmas season I received a card from the Mittmanns that I didn't quite understand at first. It was describing some sort of wedding and "50 years of marriage." Then I learned the unfortunate news: Julie had died earlier this year and the card (written by Peter) was describing Peter and Julie's happy marriage of 50 years. I do not know where I would be if I had not known Julie. She was the first woman in my life to show me what it means to be somebody's son. Even since my adoption, Julie continued to show me love and support by writing letters to me, allowing me to visit her home and even coming to my graduation. Julie had a big heart and cared for everyone. She was also a devout Christian and would know that even in the most unfortunate of times, there is always good news. It just so happens that at Christmastime, that news comes in the form of a baby, born in the town of Bethlehem and lying in a manger, who would save us all from our sins.

Rest in peace, Mutti.