Our lost boys
Laura Hottel, 47
The excitable smile on the young lad’s face said it all.
‘Thank you so much,’ Martin, then 15, beamed as we wrapped up for the day.
It was August 2012 and a typical Sunday afternoon at the church youth group where my husband Jay, then 52, and I volunteered.
My son from a previous relationship, Andrew, then 11, usually came, too.
Making pizzas, playing games, sing-a-longs.
Martin had just joined, and looked as though he’d never had fun like it.
He mentioned that he had an identical
