My 6-year-old nephew dragged his broken leg across seven blocks with his starving little sister clinging to his shirt, w

As fall approached, settling into a comfortable, predictable rhythm, Peter realized there was one final step to take. Permanent custody was secure, but legally, he was still just their guardian. He wanted more. He wanted to give them his name, his absolute commitment.

After dinner one evening, while they were sitting on the living room rug working on a massive jigsaw puzzle, Peter cleared his throat.

"Drew, Lily, I want to talk to you guys about something important."

They both looked up, holding puzzle pieces. The fact that they didn't look scared at his serious tone was a victory in itself.

"You know you're staying with me forever, right?" Peter started. They both nodded. "Well, there's a legal thing called adoption. It means that, in the eyes of the law, I wouldn't just be your uncle anymore. I would be your dad. And if you wanted to, you could change your last name to Hayes."

Drew stared at him, his blue eyes wide. "We would be yours?"

"You already are," Peter said gently. "This just makes it official on paper. But it's entirely up to you. I love you exactly the same either way."

Lily dropped her puzzle piece and crawled over to Peter, climbing into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. "I want to be Lily Hayes," she whispered.

Drew scooted over and leaned against Peter's shoulder, a bright, genuine smile breaking across his face. "Me too. I want you to be our dad."