When midwife Maria Banhegyi was told "not to get attached" to the tiny, premature baby in her care, it was too late.
She'd already fallen in love with Charlie, the quiet newborn whom she'd looked after for months in Brisbane's Mater Hospital in 2004.
When a carer couldn't be found to take the little boy home, she didn't hesitate.
"I immediately said 'I can take him'. I put a lot of thought in — about two seconds," Ms Banhegyi said, smiling.
Fast forward to 2022 and Charlie Chambers is a strapping First Nations man with a giant smile and a gentle soul.
He has spent his life in foster care in south-east Queensland, and is now on a mission to give back to the "village" who raised him.
As he embarks on a degree in social work at the QUT, he's grateful for the carers he lived with, the volunteers who supported him, and his own biological family who he's never lost contact with.
"He was just loved and I think when they are little, the more people around loving them, caring for them — the better it is," Ms Banhegyi said.
Charlie's dream is to be a mentor for children in Indigenous communities, to help them see and reach their potential, the way others helped him.
Returning home to foster mum
Having just turned 18, Charlie has now "aged out" of foster care, and is free to live wherever he pleases.
But he's decided to return home to the woman he calls "Mum" — 72-year-old Maria, the now-retired midwife, with whom he spent most of his childhood.
The two share a unit near the beach at Redcliffe.
He is allowed to drive the car to uni, so long as he chauffeurs her around when she needs to go out.
"She's very kind, very caring, very loving," Charlie said.
"And I've got the car now, which is good," he added cheekily with a broad grin.
Charlie was born at 27 weeks' gestation in May 2004, weighing just 850 grams.
After several months of care, it became clear that he would need oxygen and ongoing medical attention upon his release from hospital.
Ms Banhegyi said his biological parents and potential foster carers were not confident about taking home such a fragile infant, so when she overheard doctors talking about transferring Charlie to the children's ward to free up space in the nursery, she offered to take him herself.
"The department rang me twice and I remember them saying 'Maria, don't get attached because it's just going to be very short term'," she said.
"And 18 years later — here we are. Short term!" she laughed.
'The best part of my life'
Until Charlie came along, Ms Banhegyi's life had been a mix of work, socialising and travel.
"All of a sudden, Charlie was the main focus and his needs were the uppermost," she said.
"He is the best part of my life and I am absolutely very proud of him."
Ms Banhegyi pulls out photo albums and together they sit on the lounge, reminiscing over beach holidays and birthday parties.
The walls of the living area are adorned with Indigenous artworks created by and given to Ms Banhegyi by members of Charlie's biological family, who are very much a part of their thoughts and lives.
"They're important for both of us really. She loves them. I love them," Charlie said.
Reuniting with the 'pyjama angel'
There is anticipation as Charlie prepares to reunite with another person who played a major role in his early life.
The door opens and Renee Didlick enters, making a beeline for Charlie to give him a hug.
"Oh gosh, you're all grown up — all the way up," she said, as both wiped away tears.
They haven't seen each other for a long time, but for several years, Ms Didlick was Charlie's "Pyjama Angel" — a volunteer from the charity the Pyjama Foundation, which offers literacy, numeracy and mentoring support to children in care.
Ms Didlick remembers their first meeting, when Charlie was about three or four years old.
"He was adorable, but shy. He saw me come to the door and promptly turned and ran away and I thought 'oh, that's a good start'," she said.
Every week she went to his home to read, do arts and crafts or play games.
"I tried to let him lead a bit of the sessions with what he wanted to do," she said.
"We would often just mix up reading books with riding on the wiggle cart, kicking a footy — active stuff because he had a lot of energy.
"It's not necessarily academic goals that we are striving for as a Pyjama Angel, it's more a consistent relationship and a person that they can rely on, a sounding board for concerns and someone that can be a trusted adult in their life."
Ms Banhegyi said both she and Charlie looked forward to Ms Didlick's visits.
"I truly appreciated her coming every week. Charlie would count down. They had a lovely time," Ms Banhegyi said.
Pulling at-risk kids 'into the inner circle'
Their bond was so strong Ms Didlick named her first son Charlie, and Charlie is now considering becoming a Pyjama Angel himself.
"Knowing that I can be there for someone does sound absolutely wonderful," Charlie said.
Bronwyn Sheehan, founder of the Pyjama Foundation, said: "Charlie's had a special place in the heart of most of the people at the Pyjama Foundation and particularly in my heart as well."
The charity now mentors 1,100 children in Queensland, Sydney and Melbourne.
"When I started the Pyjama Foundation 18 years ago, there were 21,000 children in foster care in Australia," Ms Sheehan said.
"Now there are close to 50,000 and the needs of the children are more complex."
It was at the charity's events that Charlie first found his voice as a speaker, and when others noticed his ability to make sure every child felt included.
"He's just got that special thing of seeing when someone needs that little bit extra and he's very happy to provide it."
As for Charlie, the path ahead is clear.
"I aim to give back," he said.
