A few days later the Monkees, Jesse, and Heather met the couple who would be the kids new parents. The Monkees couldn't help but like the couple. Their hearts went out to them. They had been trying to have a child for three years. The poor lady had two miscarriages. So they decided to try and adopt.
"We have a nice home. A big yard, and a dog." the man smiled.
Jesse's face lit up. "A dog?"
"Is it nice?" Heather asked.
"Yes, he's very nice. His name's Resse. He's a black lab."
"We can start on the paper work, and you can take them home this afternoon." Carol told the couple after a long line of questioning.
The afternoon went too fast for the Monkees and the kids. Soon it was time for them to go to their new family. Their new parents waited patiently for them to say goodbye to the Monkees.
"I'm gonna miss you." Heather told Mike with tears streaming down her cheeks.
"I'm going to miss you too. Here." He handed her his woolhat.
"But it's your favorite hat."
"Keep it. It'll uh keep the monsters out of your new closet." Mike said feeling tears burning his eyes as well.
She gave him a big hug. "I don't ever want to forget you guys."
"Me either. You guys made us feel safe. You won't forget us, will you?" Jesse asked.
"Never." Davy said softly. Tears were burning his eyes as well.
The kids smiled and slowly walked out the door.
"Well, ahem. We uh better straighting up the bedrooms." Mike said.
"Right." Peter muttered.
The four halfhearted began to clean. Peter reached under his bed and seen what he thought was a note. He opened it up to glance at it when he realized it was a poem Jesse had written. Davy, Mike, and Micky entered the room.
"Hey guys. Listen to this." Peter smiled. He then began to read the
poem outloud.
A simple wish.
Lots of people wish for things.
Some are meaningless.
Others are hopeful.
Some wish for money and fame.
My wish is quite simple.
I wished for a family.
And to feel safe.
A day without hunger or beatings.
A night without tears or fears.
A simple wish was all I wanted.
Thank you Mike, Peter, Micky, and Davy.
For showing me that wishes really can come true.
The four gentlemen felt tears burning their eyes.
"That poem was written by an eight year old?" Micky asked. Peter wiped his eyes.
"You know fellas. At first I wasn't sure I wanted this. But now that I had it. I want it back." Mike admitted.
"Jack had it, but he turned away from it." Davy said bitterly.
"Well let's finish cleaning up." Mike suggested.
He stuck Jesse's poem in his pocket.