I adopted disabled twins after finding them in the street — 12 years later, I almost dropped my phone when I learned what they had done

An unexpected encounter at dawn

I was 29 when everything changed. I worked in waste collection, driving a garbage truck while my husband, Julien, recovered from an operation at home. Our life was modest, punctuated by bills and simple pleasures.

That morning, the cold was biting. Turning a corner, I spotted a stroller, all alone, sitting in the middle of the sidewalk.

Inside: two babies. Twin girls, about six months old, swaddled under mismatched blankets. No one around. No words, no clues.

I called emergency services and stayed with them until social services arrived. Watching them leave, one thing became clear: I could not forget them.

That same evening, around the kitchen table, an idea took shape. What if they became foster parents for us?

A choice of the heart, without conditions

The process began: home visits, social assessments, administrative forms. Then came the news: the twins were profoundly deaf.

Many families would have given up at that moment. Julien and I exchanged a look.

“We will learn,” we simply said.

A week later, Lina and Inès entered our home with two car seats and huge eyes. The first few months were intense: short nights, a tight budget, and accelerated learning of sign language at the community center.

I practiced in front of the mirror before going to work. Julien reviewed the signs late at night. “Milk”, “more”, “mama”, “daddy”… Each gesture became a victory.

The first time the twins signed “Mom”, I was breathless.